Quite a number of encouraging and inspiring emails
Helped someone land a job.
Helped someone get a scholarship.
Daring the devil in some really crazy ways and enjoying the outcome.
MacBook Pro 15"
Of (awesome) Apps.
Being a best man
Being a groom's man
Getting worried about mum's health
Properly ridiculing a police officer for his indiscretion.
Of low Moments.
Not making it to the two major events I had hoped to attend outside the country.
Facing some unscrupulous clients in which it took me a lot of restraints not to hurt their feelings in a way I'm capable of, and especially because someone's intimate relationship was at stake. And so, I had to take in some crass comments about my person. (Tolerance is a virtue).
A tiff at work (a certain Tunde, amidst other skirmishes, threw at me the most laughable jab that my angst is because I "wasn't promoted." This will still play out unless... !). Even worse was the most unnecessary & stupid apology I was compelled to make.
Of a generational issue that manifested in form of an MD who, being ignorant of what "epic sh*t" means, embarrassed me. (I was only propping up a team).
Every time I was in Lagos traffic!
My siblings, Solape, Segun Oladiran, #TeamKwirkly, SOJ, Olumide Abimbola, Benson Eluma, Gbola Adiamoh, Pius Ojemen, John Ajayi, Lanre Okunola, Tunde Dosekun, Chike, Buki Bassey, Naomi Lucas, Celine, Kome, Blessing, Taiwo Badejo, Opabisi Oluwaseun, Collyde, Ope Aikomo, Ivan Raszl, Waldemar, Sebastian Jerez, Peter Fogtdal, Sunkanmi, Dr. Abiri, Nadine Nedrebö, Funmilola Akinòsì, Olushola Aromokun, Tony Hertz, Jacquie N Kariuki, The Lumors, The Oderindes, The Odeniyis, Tosan, Funmi Ibiyode, Wunmi, Laide Olabode "exschoolnerd", Funmibi, Bajo Dada and Ify, Ohimai, Sam Adeoye, Opabisi Oluwaseun, Tolu Agunbiade, Dr. Olaniyi Owoeye, Omokeri, Seyi Owolawi, Ayeni Thegreat, Jesse Oguntimehin, Bibhuti, Usher (the electrician), Kenny (the driver). And of course, Oluwababy and Homer Simpson.
(PS: Not exhaustive)
Paul Graham, Aaron Levie, Andrew Sullivan, David Droga, Ezra Klein, Ajaz Ahmed, Carl Johnson, Salman Khan, Susan Cain, Chris Anderson, Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Ken Robinson, Ji Lee, Simon Veksner, Scott Goodson, Scott Belsky, Seth Godin, Chris Guillebeau, Jeff Goodby, Steven Johnson, Jonah Lehrer, Jason Fried, Tunde Bakare, Rei Inamoto, Lee Clow, Salman Rushdie, Eric Schmidt, Andrew Keller, Maria Popova, Nicholas Kristof, Pete Cashmore, Andy Borowitz, Seth Macfarlane, Alex Bogusky
(PS: Each book is linked to its Amazon page. They're all highly recommended. The list excludes some that I borrowed and I can't remember. I quite invested in books. These are the ones I've read. I know someone will ask why the books are particularly non-literary)
I mentioned it before: I’m most mentally alert in the morning. It’s nearly impossible to do anything personally satisfactory during other parts of the day, except if the tasks had already started in the morning. Unfortunately, I spend all my mornings in Lagos traffic with all the highway distractions that come with it.
But then, one has got to work before 8:30... because the middle name of the man monitoring the register is Ivan the Terrible.” Go figure.
I am a big fan of food but it’s hard for me to eat! This has become worse lately. I can go two days on water only, maybe a Scotch egg & Lucozade Sports in between. Or just indomie noodles (with Mimee spice) plus a cold drink. Chikena. I’ve taken all the pills possible to rescue the situation. Nothing worked or works. I’ve given up on all medical recommendations. (Sorry Pharm. Yomi)
PS: Weirdly though, I manage to eat like a normal person in the company of certain people. I can’t explain why.
The idea that someone can lord over me gives me the fever. That I work in a corporate institution is a laughable contradiction. I’m surviving though.
Make my day… share that joke with me, or link me up with a good comedian. I crave laughter, almost more than s*x. You can tell if I’m not getting enough of laughs. Watch my mood.
I write Movies/Plays, direct Movies/Plays, star in Movies/Plays, accept Oscar plaques for all these roles… all in my head.
It kills me. It kills me. It kills me. This is the reason I’ve turned down all those offers to be a columnist for a newspaper/magazine. But count me in if you can give me the freedom to do what I want, at my own pace.
Now, this is no longer a secret. We’re both pen friends. She only lives in my memory. We’ve been exchanging notes for a long time now. She dropped mental notes to me. I save my response as Drafts on Gmail. This has been going on for a long time. There’s a little break now.
I'm never comfortable talking about me, which makes this meme a daunting task. I don't like Naijalines.
“It wasn't the best of a year, but nearly the worst of the ones ever lived, it was the year of wisdom – wisdom, as yielded by a tangled adventure in foolishness, it was the epoch of laughter, and of love-lessness, it was nearly the season of darkness, excepting dispersed lights, doses of relief, from kind friends and siblings, it was a test in hopefulness, it was the ending of despair, it is the end of despair.” (AlooFar Dickens, excerpt from A Tale of Year 2010)
I remember those fun days when it was very common for bloggers to express their cyber love for other bloggers. Then, “Blog Crush” was a common term on Nigeria blogging space. In the midst of all the reading and writing, female bloggers will “fight” amongst themselves at the slightest instance if they suspect that another lady blogger was encroaching on their “crush” territory. I often wonder how the male bloggers felt being “owned” mostly by people they’ve never met. It was a funny time. Ozaveshe was crushed over by a lot of them. One of them (I can’t remember her now) made a post on him that she met him one-on-one, and that post triggered another form of envy from other female bloggers. Dude had a way with the ladies. I suspect he is the reason Afrobabe never hit on me. (Maybe she was in denial)
It took a while before I knew that I know the face behind the blog. Someone at my former place of work showed me his picture and I was surprised that his path and I had crossed before. A lady was involved. She was my friend and former classmate. Ozaveshe was making advances towards her. I used to ask the lady why she won’t give in to a fine boy like Ozaveshe who, by his demeanour, oozed a great deal of comportment.
I think I was already reading his blog at that time. Another mutual acquaintance we shared – Emeka, once asked if I knew a “certain blogger called Ozaveshe”. I said no until he gave me his blog URL. “Oh, I know him. I know him as The Cunning Linguist”. It’s easier to know bloggers by their blog names than their URLs.
Sadly, he lost his battle against cancer.
Only memories will serve us now: that he made people laugh, that he shared his intelligence, that I once asked if his blog name was a deliberate visual distortion of “Cunnilingus”.
Good night, blogger.
In another unrelated news...
"Overrated” was perhaps my closest pal amongst my colleagues. Great dude. I’ve known him before I joined the agency: first, as the guy who sat opposite me at a Chinese restaurant for a send forth occasion of a friend who was leaving the country. He maintained a smug pose. I’m not sure now, but I think he strolled in late with his lithe frame carefully balanced on a pair of crutches. Second, as the guy I was going to have a long and heated chat with some months after in which he confirmed my suspicion that within that frame of his is a brain bursting with enough energy for disruptive marketing ideas.
Few days ago, he walked towards my corner of the office, rather briskly, with an indecipherable tinge in his eyes. I knew from the approach that he wasn’t coming to “test” an idea with me as we were both fond of doing. (Our last “experiment” was The Impossible Brief. We both came up with loads of ideas, challenging each others’. Exhausted, we left it - left it to exchanging blames on who gave up. I had the last say when I yelled “Leave me, I didn’t kill Jesus). Whoever solves that brief should be awarded all the categories of The Nobel Prize, I think.
“Maan mi, I’m resigning. Now!”
I was convinced he wasn’t joking when he unmouthed those words. It was a startling decision. He stood motionless in front of me for about 5 seconds. The expression on his face fluctuated between fury and frankness. I’ve never seen him like that before. The idea of resigning had not crossed his mind before that morning. I know. So, what the heck? I gave a puzzling look as he moved to his seat.
He did drop the letter for whatever reason(s).
Stupid boy. Now I look back and see that his exit has ushered in a rather uncomfortable relief. We used to exchange banters, poke fun at anything possible, clog each other’s official email address with internet links, laugh at annoying clients etc.
An intelligent and extremely restless dude, he exhibits the temperament of a tortured artiste who will fight against any incursion to bend his art. He writes for a marketing magazine. I will miss editing those write-ups, and especially those moments when he excitedly rushes to my seat to share an idea or act a gaffe or spit some dirty thoughts rummaging in his mind.
Yo, I wish you the best as you conquer other territories.
My farewell message to my (ex)-colleagues as I move on in my career as an advertising executive.
Role Models is a funny movie. It is, and everyone who has seen it will agree, that it can pass for a brilliant comedy invention. It didn't force itself to be funny like those Nigerian sitcoms that I torture my eyes to view only at some joints where I need to grab something cold to drink. And that happens very often.
Some of the scenes, however, are boring. They make you just want to hit the pause button with your fist and reach for the 15-day old meat pie in your refrigerator. Just when you’re still at that thought, you realize that the refrigerator is a distance closer to the sun. What do you do? You just keep the faith, and hope that the God of Seth MacFarlane will control the next drag. Yes, you’re lucky. After a few minutes, there is a sudden flush of happiness on your face, the two major characters are goofing, and you can’t but laugh. The throw-pillow that was your comforting mate during the boring scenes suddenly turned to a fart-suppressing device, because no one, not even your neighbours, will believe that a movie is causing the uncontrollable discharges. Damn it, it’s your ribs having a good crack of their life.
But one scene has stood stubbornly with me. I have equated the whole of the movie to that scene. It’s the scene where Wheeler grabs the microphone at a surprise birthday party that his colleagues had organized for one of them – Danny.
Danny and Wheeler are closer to themselves than they are to other colleagues. Despite that, Danny doesn’t consider Wheeler close enough to him to merit how Wheeler defined their relationship. He cuts in to correct Wheeler when he takes to the centre to refer to Danny as “my best friend”. Wheeler replies, “No, we just work together. Not best friends”
If not for Wheeler’s bubbly nature, he would have spent the rest of the party sulking like a teenager experiencing her first love break-up. That’s not what you expect when you choose to affiliate yourself to a supposed close friend, albeit public. But let’s face it; it’s the way of the world.
What’s the lesson for me?
Notwithstanding the length of time, some people at your place of work will become your friends, some will not merit that title, some will play Danny and use their words to hit you like a “cudgel” (Sorry Boss, lol), some are so damn nice they’re almost taking the place of your siblings, etc. In this agency, I have been endowed with too many of the latter. And that’s where the fun has been. After all, life, in the words of Forrest Gump, is like a box of chocolate, “you never know what you're gonna get”
My time here has been a great experience. What I have now are memories. I couldn’t ask for more. It’s fun working with people who know how to work, and who do it with a lot of passion.