I have not yet gone to college...

This is an NYU college-admission application essay question and the actual answer given by an applicant:




QUESTION:
In order for the admission staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better, we ask that you answer the following question: "Are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?"




ANSWER:
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice with my bare hands. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees. I write award-winning operas. I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and god-like trombone playing. I can pilot bicycles up several inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook thirty-minute brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love and an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello. I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge. I am an abstract artiste, a concrete analyst and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I'm a private citizen, yet, I receive fan mail.


Last summer, I toured New Jersey with a travelling centrifugal-force demonstration. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week, and when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on a vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact Origami. Years ago, I discovered the meaning of life, but forgot to write it down. I have made extra-ordinary four-course meals using a mouli and a toaster-oven. I breed prize-winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery and I have spoken with Elvis.


But I have not yet gone to college.










...He was accepted! :)








CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE COLLEGE SOUL! ©

THinGs iLovE...My abstract Pink Punk sideE!! \m/

not a fan of the jeans nd sneakers..buh iLove the guitar

I wish this could be mine tho' :(

well, what more can I say? :)


\m/

101 ways to use a barometer!!!

Some time ago, I received a call from a colleague, who asked if I would be the referee on the grading of an examination question. He was about to give a student a zero for his answer to a physics question, while the student claimed that he should receive a perfect score and would if the system were not set up against the student. The instructor and the student agreed to an impartial arbiter, and I was selected.


I went to my colleague's office and read the question: "Show how it is possible to determine the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer."
The student had answered: "Take the barometer to the top of the building, attach a long rope to it, lower it to the street, and then bring it up. The length of the rope is the height of the building."


I pointed out that the student really had a strong case for full credit since he had really answered the question correctly. On the other hand, if full credit were given, it could well contribute to a high grade in his physics course. A high grade is supposed to certify competence in physics, but the answer did not confirm this. I suggested that the student have another try at answering the question. I was not surprised that my colleague agreed, but I was when the student did.


I gave the student 6 minutes to answer the question with warning that the answer should show some knowledge of physics. At the end of five minutes, he had not written anything. I asked if he wished to give up, but he said no. He had many answers to this problem; he was just thinking of the best one. I excused myself for interrupting him and asked him to please go on. In the next minute, he dashed off his answer which read: "Take the barometer to the top of the building and lean over the edge. Drop the barometer, timing its fall with a stop-watch. Then, using the formula S=½AT2, calculate the height of the building."


At this point, I asked my colleague if he would give up. He conceded and gave the student almost full credit.


In leaving my colleague's office, I recalled the student had said he had other answers to the problem, so I asked him what they were.


"Well," said the student, "there are many ways of getting the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer. For example, you could take the barometer out on a sunny day and measure the height of the barometer, the length of its shadow, and the length of the shadow of the building, and by use of simple proportion, determine the length of the building."


"Fine," I said, "any others?"


"Yes," said the student. "There is a very basic measurement method you will like. In this method, you take the barometer and begin to walk upstairs. As you climb the stairs, you mark off the length of the barometer along the wall. You then count the number of marks, and this will give you the height of the building in barometer units. A very direct method.


"Of course, if you want a more sophisticated method, you can tie the barometer to the end of a string, swing it as a pendulum and determine the value of g at the street level and at the top of the building. From the difference between the two values of g, the height of the building. in principle, can be calculated.


"On this same tack, you could take the barometer to the top of the building, attach a long rope to it, lower it to just above the street and swing it like a pendulum. You could then calculate the height of the building by the period of the precession.


"Finally, there are many other ways of solving the problem," he concluded. "Probably, the best is to take the barometer to the basement and knock on the superintendent's door. When he answers, you speak to him as follows: "Mr. Superintendent, here is a fine barometer. If you will tell me the height of the building, I will give you this barometer."


At this point, I asked the student if he really did not know the conventional answer to this question. He chuckled and said, "Sure I do, but I'm fed up with college instructors trying to teach me how to think" >:]












Chicken Soup for the COLLEGE soul!©

An Idea = Lottsa dough!! :]

Good morning good people of blogsville!


Yeah, I'm up early, I know! That's odd 'cause on Saturdays, regular folks wake up at 1.p.m! :D  Well, in my crib, that's not how it works! At 7.a.m, dad goes to all the rooms and wakes everyone up...and if only you could guess what for!! 


It's like a tradition! Every Saturday morning by 7.a.m, we all 'match' to the sitting room. Dad tunes in to Channel 132 and the show begins: "Success Power" that's the name. It's hosted by Sam Adeyemi. He's a motivational speaker/preacher. Yup! Dude makes alotta sense. Even with our sleepy red eyes, our ears are always shot up(like those of little elves :D), and every word from that guy's mouth effectively drifts into our ears. We sure as hell learn a lot from him. So yeah, we don't regret the 30 minutes of sleep lost,...well, I don't! :)


Today, he talked about ideas/creativity. About how everything around us is born out of an idea...and how ideas are born from the need to solve problems...and at the end are exchanged for wealth. From the cars we drive, to the Microsoftware we use on our laptops, to the cement used in building houses. These are all brain-children of different inventors, and these inventions have all been exchanged for money. He talked about how different men came up with 'little' ideas which have all transformed into problem-solving, money-pumping inventions.

Bill Gate's brain-child, Microsoft©, was born out of the need to solve the problem of data processing and storage. In exchange for it, he has amassed a lot of wealth. Wealth can be disguised in the form of an idea. Just having one logical idea has already made you a store-house of wealth. All you need to do is find someone who is ready to invest in that idea, and you are on the road to success!!


"Humans are made in the image of  God. God is a creator. Therefore, humans are creators." This is pure logic! We have an inborn ability to create. We just have to look deep and unleash it in whatever way we can. We need to constantly think, formulate ideas/innovations and create!


He said a lot more, but honestly, thanks to sleep I've forgotten some of it! :D


Hope this would get you thinking tho'...Just wanted to share it with y'all!


Now back to my CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE COLLEGE SOUL©


:D


♡♥♡

What is sex? :/

One day in an emergency waiting room, a little girl turned to her mother and asked, "What is sex?" People turned their full attention to Mom. I mean, this was better than Jerry Springer. I mean, this was real life. Exciting! What was Mom going to say? How do you answer a six-year-old girl? What is sex? This is one hot topic. You know, kids seem to know much more than I did when I was their age; they are exposed to so much more these days on the television and at the movies. How was Mom going to answer?




I'm the kind of girl who just goes ahead and answers the question right away, like I not only know the answer, but understand the question. So I'm curious how Mom is going to tell this little girl about how babies are made. Or how Mom is going to dodge this difficult question. I mean, is Mom going to talk to a little child about safe sex? I'm pretty sure Mom is not going to talk about ways to have sex; although you just really never know what might happen in the emergency room.


But she surprises me; she doesn't think in the way I think or respond the way I usually respond. Instead, she pauses. 


I hardly ever pause. 


She then thoughtfully asks her daughter, "What do you mean, dear?" The little girl responds, "Well, Mom, I was looking at this paper, and it says sex-M/F. Am I an M or an F?" 


Mom's face breaks into a huge smile. 


The waiting room patrons resume their usual chatter.


And I laugh. 


I would have answered the wrong question. I had heard the question, but I really did not listen to what the girl was saying! 
:)

Chicken Soup for the COLLEGE soul!

YOUR LEGACY

I had a philosophy professor who was the quintessential eccentric philosopher. His disheveled appearance was highlighted by a well-worn tweed sport coat and poor-fitting thick glasses, which often rested on the tip of his nose. Every now and then, as most philosophy professors do, he would go off one of those esoteric and existential "what's the meaning of life" discussions. Many of those discussions went nowhere, but there were a few that hit home. This was one of them:


"Respond to the following discussion by a show of hands," my professor instructed.


"How many of you can tell me something about your parents?" Everyone's hand went up.


"How many of you can tell me something about your grandparents?" About three-fourths of the class raised their hands.


"How many of you can tell me something about your great-grandparents?" Two out of sixty students raised their hands.


"Look around the room", he said. "In just two short generations, hardly any of us even know who our own great-grandparents were. Oh sure, maybe we have an old tattered photograph tucked away in a musty cigar box or know the classic family story about how one of them walked five miles to school barefoot. But how many of us really know who they were, what they thought, what they were proud of, what they were afraid of, or what they dreamed about? Think about that. Within three generations, our ancestors are all, but forgotten! Will this happen to you?"


"Here's a better question. Look ahead three generations. You are long gone. Instead of you sitting in this room, now it's your great-grandchildren. What will they have to say about you? Will they know about you? Or will you be forgotten, too?


"Is your life going to be warning or an example? What legacy will you leave? The choice is 
yours. Class dismissed!"


Nobody rose from their seat for a good ten minutes!

Chicken Soup for the COLLEGE soul.

How to get an A on yhur final exams! :)

During my senior exam in college, I served as a teacher's assistant. One of my roles was to administer and proctor the exams. The class was a freshman introductory course, which had well over five hundred students.

The students were given four exams during the semester and one cumulative final exam at the semester's end. 


In order to manage these five hundred college freshmen, I had to establish rules. The rules were as follows. The exams began at exactly 9:00a.m. The students would pick up their test booklets and blue books and proceed to a seat of their choosing. They would have exactly fifty minutes to complete the examination. At exactly 9:50a.m., I would call out, "Pencils down!" Everyone had to stop writing immediately, put their pencils down, proceed to the front of the room and turn in their blue books. Those who did not put their pencils down at exactly 9:50.a.m. and turn in their blue books would receive an automatic F, no exceptions!

When final exam time came, the students were so indoctrinated into the system that I only needed to announce one warning at 9:40.a.m. So as the final minutes ticked away, I announced, "It is 9:40. You have ten minutes until pencils down." Then at 9:50.a.m, I barked my last command for that semester: "It's 9:50, pencils down. You know the rules!" And boom, all pencils went down, just like always. All 500 students stood-or was it only 499? Yes it was. Everyone filled the aisle except for one sneaky guy-a guy way up in the nosebleed section.

He was just writing and writing away. I saw him up there, but he didn't think I could. Once again, I barked, "Pencils down everyone!" But he kept on writing, trying to beat my system. How dare he! Boy, would I get him! At 9:58a.m, as I began to organize the stacks of examination packets, I saw this young man running up the aisle to surrender his exam to the table.

"Here, Mr. D'angelo, take my blue book!", he huffed and puffed.

"I cannot accept this. You know the rules. Pencils down at 9:50a.m, or you get an automatic F!"

"please Mr. D'angelo, take my blue book!"

"No! You know I can't do that. It's against the rules."

"Please, please, take my blue book. I'm barely passing this class. My mom and dad will kill me if I have to repeat this class. Just take it and no one will ever know." A tear began to stream down his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I just can't." I went back to the stacks, organizing them one by one. The young man just turned and walked away with his shoulders slumped.

Now with a stack of five hundred or so books in my arms, I watched the freshman walk up the stairs towards the exit. Just about at the halfway point, I saw him boldly turn around, with great confidence, you might say with a hint of arrogance. He swiftly jogged down to me.

He questioned softly, "Mr. D'angelo, do you know who I am?"

"Why? No! And frankly, I couldn't care less"

"Are you sure you don't know who I am?", he inquired with even a greater confidence. I started to get a little concerned. Was this the dean's son? What had I gotten myself into?

"No, I'm sorry, I don't", I said, with a little hesitation in my voice.

"Are you absolutely, 100% sure that you don't know who I am?"

"For the last time, no, I don't know who you are!"

"Well then, good!" and he shove his blue book into the middle of the stack and ran out of the door.

[Chicken Soup for the COLLEGE soul!]

Chicken Soup! :)

Heyyy!!!


Okay, I haven't blogged since the last time Aristotle's mother changed his diapers!!! I bet that's a really long time ago! :)
I've been extremely busy! (emphasis on the "EXTREMELY") So busy I don't even tweet as regularly as I used to. Tres sad! :(
School's been a 'bitch' though! Why on earth do we really have to go to school?? No, No.... who was the jobless Homo sapiens that 'invented' school. really though, i just wanna get up to that fother mucker and strike him with my 'light-saber'! (I bet I'm not the only one on planet Earth with this same callous feeling! Arrgghhh!)


Anyways, even with my busy schedule, I've been able to sneak in some time for my Chicken Soup for the College Soul. Oh, how I love all those Chicken Soup books!!!! ^_^ If you haven't read, at least, one of them, you need to take the next available 'flight' off the Milky Way Galaxy...believe that!


So, my next few posts are gonna be some of the short stories in this particular series that struck me/gave me goosebumps/got me teary-eyed/got me cracking up wif uncontrollable laughter!


Sit back, relax and enjoy the ride!!!
(make that "read")


:)


<3

Just Friends?♥

I love you more every day,
My name I long for you to say.
Do you know just how I feel?
Do you know this love is real?
Sometimes I wonder what you think.
When you hear my name, do your cheeks turn pink?
Do you dream about me every night?
Wish to hug me and hold me tight?
Do you think we're meant to be?
Together forever, you and me?
These are the questions that run through my mind,
Your way into my heart, you did find.
It drives me crazy as to what I should do,
Should I risk a friendship and confess to you?
Or should I keep my feelings inside,
Keep them locked up, let them hide?
I just don't know what to do anymore,
My heart it aches, my heart it's sore.
I love you more than you could know,
And I don't want to ever let you go.
So even if I'm just a friend,
I'll always love you until the end.


♥

by Leanne.

Emo Poem: The people I hide...

Getting ready to see friends
Go to the mirror put makeup on
To hide my true self.
Is this what life is about?
To hide.
I see my friends flirty & girly.
I try to be happy and like them,
but all I feel is alone.
No-one here to help me
I am different to my friends.
I am different, fun, happy girly
but is that me?
I go back to the mirror
and all I see is an unknown girl
trying to find away out
but I am hidden
I hide my true self
I am no one.
People have skeletons in their closets.
I have masks.
What do you have?

By F Keats

Happy Easter ♥

Happy Easter daurlings!!! :)


Uhmm...this period hasn't really been fab for me tho'...buh all in all, I still give Him thanks! :)


First of all, I was struck wif that 'African Pandemic' called malaria. It was a tough time I tell yhu. Injections went in and outta ma bum as if a bicycle tyre was being pumped...for reals mehn, it wasn't a funny ordeal. Glad that that was over, the next week(MY BIRTHDAY WEEK!), Typhoid came into the picture. Sad much! :( I was glad that the typhoid allowed me to celebrate my birthday in good health, buh the next day, it totally knocked me out! Poor me! :(


(And yes, my birthday was totally fab! I felt soo luhved! :D
Thanks to all my friends on twitter and facebook.
I luv y'all!
Mwah!!!)


Got on a drip for like 3 days [my poor vein :(  Lest I forget, this was my very first time of being on a drip :) ]. And even on 'my sick bed', with a drip through one hand and phone in the other...i was TWEETING! Gadd, Talk about addiction! lol..
My friends on twitter helped me through this period tho'...they were really sympathetic! :)
And my bestfriend prayed for me ....aww :)


Well, before all this shit happened, I was really busy, gett'n pepared for my exam. So I guess this was the perfect 'distraction'. Anyways, I'm glad it's all over now.


Er, apart from this 'temporary setback', nunn much has been going on in Maro's life.


YES! Before I forget, JUSTIN BEIBER!!!!!
lol...is it me, or do people actually worship that dude?? When I saw a TT on twitter: "Beliebers"..I went weak in my knees! WTF??? Like, yea, I "Used" to luhv him, buh nuh anymore mehn. Ahahn!!! Is he the only person that has a good voice?? It's not like he can even dance sef (yea, DANCING is my number one priority)..lol 
There's no day that goes by withou his name or anyfin related to him on the list of TTs...Arrghhh..Kmt


Lemme not even waste my time ranting about him...


(P.S I'm not a hater tho')


:D


So, err, I guess that's it for now!
Gotta go pick up my books!
:)


L8er!


♥

'F' False Eyelashes! :P

My friend, Cindy, walked into my office. She looked very nice and well 'put together'. As we discussed, I noticed she was staring at me.

"What is it, Cindy?" I enquired, checking to see if I left a mark on my white shirt after a heavy meal of rice and chicken stew in the office cafeteria.
"Ayo, do you know you have beautiful eyes? They are the most striking features of your face."
I blushed at the unexpected compliment.
 "Thank you."
"You must do something about it."
"I thought you said they were beautiful?" I asked, puzzled.
"Yes, I did. I am still looking at them. Bring them out. Make them look more attractive." She said, fluttering her eyelashes.


I paused before answering. "Cindy, you know I don't even use eye shadows. I am too careless for that. I will just apply it upside down. Take a look at my nails, you will see that I never do manicure or even pedicure. If I try it, they'll chip off the following day." I shook my head with such finality that you would think it was a closed subject. Gladly, she didn't say anything about it, though I still caught her stealing glances at my eyes; the sudden object of attraction.


The following day, she peeped into my cubicle at the close of work:
"Let's go and do some shopping, I'm feeling depressed."
Personally, I didn't need any reason to shop. I shop whether I'm happy or sad; I simply enjoy acquiring some "wordly possessions". My mama always says that the worldly possessions are simply for this world, we ain't taking them to heaven, so we can gladly sue them up here. So, at 5.30pm. on that eventful evening, I gladly followed my "BFF", Cindy, to a popular shopping plaza in Central Area, Abuja. As we passed by a Beauty Spa, she looked at me and said, "Remember what we discussed yesterday?"
"Which one?" I asked, puzzled. "We talked about a lot of things-upfront salary, morning meetings, targets..."
"No, not about work. You always talk about work. The discussion was about you."
"What about me?"
"Your lashes."
Oh! I touched my eye lashes instinctively. I hope they were not gone.
"This is the place. There is a young man, Andrew. Most Abuja society ladies patronize him. He is really good. He will "pamper" your eyes."
I decided to follow her inside. We met one handsome young man who greeted my friend as though she were a long-lost aunty. She introduced me and my ordeal began.


"How would you like it - Long, Short or medium?"
Cindy answered on my behalf, "Medium would do for a start."
He brought out some false eye lashes of different shades hoisted on a stand. I noticed a tube labelled 'eyelash adhesive' on the table.

"There are two options." He informed me, looking very serious. "One will last for two weeks, it is called temporary lashes and costs N7, 500.00. It will take only thirty minutes. The other is more permanent and much more expensive and will take at least two hours. It is already 6p.m, we close by 7p.m. but I can wait to complete it."


I toook the cheaper and less time-consuming option and we began the 'operation'. Cindy conveniently sneaked out to continue her shoppingadventure and hopefully her imaginary "depression" would have evaporated.


He brought out instruments of various sorts and began prodding my eyes.


"Ouch!" I screamed.
"Did it hurt you?" He inquired sympathetically.
"Yes."
"That's because you are blinking." He explained. "Can you do without blinking for a while?"


I honestly couldn't imagine not blinking if someone is pulling at your eyelid. I asked him if it were naturally possible to do so and he informed me that lots of women can achieve this feat. It was then my 'surgeon' informed me that I blink too much. I didn't know that, so I subconsciously stored it amongst the things I didn't know how to do well. The list was certainly getting longer-dancing(I dance off tune); singing(I sing off-key); walk(my momma says ladies walk slowly with precise steps, I forget all the time especially in my lovely platform shoes!) and now blinking (I blink......).


We waited a while for the eyelash adhesive to be completely dry. For finishing touches, Andrew curled the new contraption with an eyelash curler.


After about twenty minutes of discomfort and ten strands of artificial eyelashes(each strand contains three lashes), I emerged a more beautiful and 'sophisticated' Abuja babe. Cindy was right, my eyes were more pronounced. I understood why actresses and models look more ravishing. It's all about the eyes, the window of the soul. Pity, I wasn't much younger, I could have gone for auditioning for all the new beauty pageants and there are certainly many of them-Sisi Oge, Miss Insurance, Miss Ikemba, Miss Carnival, Miss Soap, and possibly, Miss EyeLashes!


"Do you like it?" Andrew asked, shaking me out of my mini-reverie.
You bet! "Yes, I look great!" I answered, still staring at the transformation.

The door opened and Cindy walked in. Perfect timing!
"You look good, Ayo!"
"Yes, I know." I responded, coyly, fluttering my newest acquisition - thick long lashes, fully paid for.
"How do you feel?" She enquired further.
"I like it." I replied.
CIndy turned to Andrew, "Would you tweak her eyebrow? They look plucked."
Not again, I thought. I have had enough!
Andrew looked at my face. "I think she needs threading.: They didn't consult me as they discussed.
"I'm good." I said breaking into their 'serious' conversation. "Besides, I don't have money left." I concluded, grabbing my wallet to go.
"I will pay." Cindy insisted.
"How much is it?" I was informed it was only N1,000.00
I didn't want to owe my friend any money because I know I will have to 'cough' out the funds on a more expensive outing. I looked at the mirror and really liked what I saw. Perhaps, a little threading or whatever that means would enhance an already lovely look.
"Okay, I would do it. Cindy, don't worry. I have the cash." She looked glad.
The term "threading" actually denotes "threading". Andrew brought out a long thread and began pulling at my eyebrow. I felt little pain as he began.
"Don't worry, it will be a little painful at first and thereafter when you get used to it on subsequent visits, you won't even notice."


"How long will it last?" I enquired at the mention of 'subsequent visits'.
"It depends on the rate of growth of the individual's eyebrow, but a minimum of two weeks."
"Ouch!" I screamed yet again as he began working on my left eyebrow. The skin at that side had gone red. I felt like crying but remembered the lovely face I saw in the mirror. I bore my pains.
Forty minutes later and N9,000 poorer(including the tip for a job well done), I exited the shopping plaza in Central Abuja. Cindy walked proudly behind me, quite pleased with herself. It was time to go home.
"You look different." My husband, Bryon said, staring at my face as I stepped into the house.
"Oh, you noticed." I was glad.
"What have you done this time, Ayo?"
I lifted up my face. At 6"4 inches to my 5"5 frame, Bryon could certainly see clearly.
"Do you like it?" I asked, batting the long, luxurious lashes at him.
"I have to know what you did before I decide." Bryon asked, suspiciously.
"I did my eyes, can't you see?"
He looked closely. "Well, it's nice but a little artificial."
"Of course, they are artificial. Just a little enhancement." I hugged a puzzled Bryon, walked off and went into the bedroom. My cellphone rang; it was Cindy.

"How do you feel girl?"

"I'm good. I just want to take a bath."
"Don't wash around the eye area for 24 hours, remember he used glue."
"How do I do that?"
"Just wash around your face, but not near the eyes!"


I took my bath, carefully avoiding my face. I decided just to cleanse my face with cotton wool and a face cleanser. As I lay down to rest, I felt a throbbing headache. It was unusual as I rarely have headaches. I dared not inform Bryon. I sneaked out to get Bryon's aspirin which he takes everyday after reading a recent newspaper article that it helps prevent all manners of diseases. I slept fitfully. I woke up the following morning feeling very strange. My eyelids felt heavy and uncomfortable. I spoke to my beauty consultant, Cindy, who informed me that I'll get used to it. I bore my discomfort stoically. I still liked the way I looked. I loved my eyes.


Day two, I still felt the discomfort. But by the third day, I got used to it. I only noticed my eyes were slightly red. Hubby merely ignored me when I asked me to check my eyes for redness. He simply didn't want to get involved. I purchased a bottle of original Visine eye drop from my regular reliable Jessi-Jen Pharmacy in Wuse2 and that took care of the problem.


Day four, five and six, I began to enjoy my new looks, fully. I had joined the league of Abuja 'big girls' - false eyelashes, artificial hair extensions, designer......


Precisely a week later, I woke up with my eyes really swollen. The upper eyelids looked like I was engaged in some battle the previous day. I was scared! I called to book an appointment at an eyeclinic. Luckily, my optician said I could come immediately. Donning a dark pair of sunshades, I arrived at the clinic. The doctor examined me and promptly put me on antibiotics.
"What's wrong with me, Doc?" I asked miserably.
"You have an eye infection."
"Eye infection?"
"Yes."


I understood. I signed a cheque of N15,000 to treat the eye infection for seven days. A rough mental calculation showed that I hadc spent over N25,000 on this adventure(lash extension, threading, tips, Visine eye drop, antibiotics, pains, discomfort and others that cannot be quantified monetarily). That put paid to my adventure with beauty enhancement, especially concerning my eyes. Some things are certainly not for some people. I would rather remain the way I have always been. Of course, Bryon said nothing. I'm sure he was glad to have his wife back without any 'enhancement'.


A few months later, another close friend of mine was staring at my eyes.


"Ayo, you have beautiful eyes."

I kept quiet.


"I think you can enhance it. I know a place where they sell contact lenses in various colours...."


I simply ignored her...



P.S THIS IS AN EXCERPT!


Hope ya'll enjoyed it tho'...I did!! That was why I decided to share it with you guys!


Lotsa luhv!!


Mwah!


:)


♥