<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787</id><updated>2011-07-28T21:41:28.471+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Adunni's Space</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-6242110989578963656</id><published>2011-03-04T09:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T09:44:35.317+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just tried a new template. I kind of like it. I hope i can change the colors and customize it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-6242110989578963656?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/6242110989578963656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=6242110989578963656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/6242110989578963656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/6242110989578963656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-tried-new-template.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-4097414558114089323</id><published>2011-03-03T17:05:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T17:13:12.017+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Looking for a new template. I don't like this yellow one. its just bland like that. off to look for lovely free ones. emphasis on free. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-4097414558114089323?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/4097414558114089323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=4097414558114089323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/4097414558114089323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/4097414558114089323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2011/03/looking-for-new-template.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-6538153499439284538</id><published>2011-03-03T13:18:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T13:26:26.803+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I ANT TO COME BACK &lt;div&gt; i want to come back here but i don't know how. I've lost my way and am now in a maze of my own making. Wish i could find my way back. I really miss here. Here is where i put down my deepest thoughts shared my deepest feelings. Here is where i felt so good looking back at my own mastery of the written word. Perhaps its the looking back thats kept my pen still. perhaps i should wipe the slate clean and begin again perhaps i should start afresh a new page without the mistakes and triumphs of the past or perhaps i should stay and commit.... i dunno. Every time i try to start again some how i get sidetracked hmmmm... words so much in my head swirling round and round so close i can almost touch them words so many words I've kept them inside so long  and now all i want to do is let them out ...lord how i've missed you ... i really really have... i hope that now that i've come back , that i can stay course coming here keeps me sane ........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-6538153499439284538?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/6538153499439284538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=6538153499439284538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/6538153499439284538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/6538153499439284538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-ant-to-come-back-i-want-to-come-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-1490048117043140319</id><published>2010-10-20T15:53:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T16:58:30.618+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Not quite Random&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Its 20 10 2010 and i'm back here writing again. Some people are making a fuss about the date but i don't quite get it. Maybe there something in it i cant seem to see . Anyway its just another day just another day.. i went church yesterday. One of the pastors preached on Psalm 23 verse 2 "He made me to lie down in green pastures" He talked about relationships and who can make us do things and why we would do it because of the relationship we had. He talked about a relationship with God and asked us how we obey God about how God makes us to do things. and the general consensus was that we sometimes obey God out of fear, out of a need to claim a blessing and sometimes because of the relationship we have with God, and in some cases God sometimes has to force us to do things through reprimands. I was really feeling what he was saying and my mind kept saying "all God wants is that u trust him by laying down" he also talked about the green pastures and how sometimes we just need to trust God about it... we need to get to that point were we can trust that when God makes us to lie down, that it will be in green pastures.. it was really thought provoking and i kind of enjoyed the service  it made me think and gave me a deeper meaning of the psalm and that verse.  The only spoiler for me was this "sister" who said she didn't think that that was what the verse meant and basically just  said that the verse was about something else entirely .. i think she somehow managed to throw the whole teaching off course  the other spoiler was the pastor who somehow managed to water down the whole thing. In my opinion we go to bible study to learn deeper about God's word. If we wanted to be babied, we wouldn't have bothered to come for bible study. The truth I've leaned after years as a Christian is that God's way are not our ways and that we have to have absolute faith in God 'cos somethings are going to happen but as a child of God you have to trust that God is working everything out for good. The most important point is to lie down trusting that since it as God who said so then it has to be in green pastures even tough our human eye cannot see anything. I think that the psalmist was sharing about how he had come to point were he has realised that when God makes him to lie down, it is always in green pastures and that when God leads him, it is always besides still waters and God restores his soul ... thats just my understanding of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;btw i'm currently watching the little rascals and laughing my head off... am i alright?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-1490048117043140319?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/1490048117043140319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=1490048117043140319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1490048117043140319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1490048117043140319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2010/10/not-quite-random-its-20-10-2010-and-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-9003954148146499060</id><published>2010-07-21T10:07:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T13:46:04.902+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;ATTENTION TO DETAIL&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So this morning i took a memo up to my boss and he crosses it out with a big &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, my mistake? well i  forgot to edit the title. See i Use a template for my memos so basiclly i just edit all the needed fields print out and then &lt;i&gt;Save As&lt;/i&gt; with the new title name to keep proper records. So instead of my memo reading Supplies Purchase, it read Internet connection subscription payment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Whats funny and weird is that i read the whole memo but somehow i missed the title .....Ok ! Ok!! plus a few other things. I had to re - edit and calm my self down to make sure there were no more mistakes in it and of course this led to more re - edits and reprints. In all I had to reprint about four times.  By the time i finally got back to my boss he gave me an ultimatum "The next time i have to correct your memos i won't sign anything from you for a week" i screamed and he went "okay you don't like a week ... lets make it one whole month" (I think the man has been watching too many movies )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;During my appraisal, he gave me a (2) for my writing skill and when i asked him why, he told me it was because he was forever correcting my memos............. i was like wait a minute.. i write well very well if i might add and  the poorly written memo was from my team member  who had and still has the writing skill of an eight year old  (i know i was passing the buck but i needed to get that 4) but he reminded me that it was my job to look through every memo to make sure that there were no mistakes he said to me "Adunni you need to improve on your attention to detail" my hand just fell . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He said the same thing again this morning and as i left his office it got me thinking .. why do i not pay attention to detail?.. it was funny how i stared at the memo and still missed the very glaring errors in it. God help me. I really need help.  It's very easy for me to walk into a situation and see the big overall picture and i mean really see a picture in my head about the situation but when it comes to those tiny little details it's like my eyes just glaze over them. As long as the big picture is alright then its ok. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;All morning I've been racking my brains trying to figure out why i do that... is it because I'm impatient ... (but I'm more patient these days now) .....i can't seem to find the answer....... i read so quickly and absorb stuff so quickly but i miss out the errors  ...makes me wonder &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Even in my life i look at situations and i can get the big picture and go my merry way but somehow i miss those little, little things that matter in life. I gloss over things and miss those important things in life that money cannot buy. I look at the big picture and forget to enjoy the little things.......... when i look back i feel a kind of sadness that i did not take the time to enjoy some things and now i have no memories of them and i wish i did. I worry so much about issues that i fail to enjoy the moment, the now , the shared laughter with a close friends , the warmth of a hug from some one special, i missed out an all that and it makes me sad. But what gives me hope this morning is that now that i know that,  i can change it or at least i can try to change it making sure i make the best of every moment, to explore every emotion  I feel and not to be ashamed by my feelings . Like right now i'm writing again and i feel happy, giddy with excitement and weird all at the same time ohhh  a lot of emotions .. I know but its all good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-9003954148146499060?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/9003954148146499060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=9003954148146499060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/9003954148146499060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/9003954148146499060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2010/07/attention-to-detail-so-this-morning-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-7600262224384277965</id><published>2010-07-20T15:39:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T16:02:55.739+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I couldn't think of a title&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I will not say its been a while because that would be stating the obvious.Instead i'll say its good to be back. Good to have my mojo back.  For a long time life happened and for the most part i just couldn't find the words to put here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And now i think perhaps life has driven me back here or maybe  my need to unburden my thoughts, to share with .................even though it just a dairy. Whatever it is that drove me back, i hope i stay here  fight all my demons, find inner peace and do great things. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-7600262224384277965?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/7600262224384277965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=7600262224384277965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7600262224384277965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7600262224384277965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-couldnt-think-of-title-i-will-not-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-8809226453190628446</id><published>2009-02-25T17:01:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T17:08:14.059+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;THE FEMINIZATION OF ME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Femization... too much grammar ..abeg before una break my medula ... i don check am for wikipedia and from all the big big grammar wen full there my understanding of the word is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Feminization - As a lifestyle desire. Feminization is a person's voluntary transformation from male to female, either physically, behaviorally, or both. This transformation can either be permanent, or temporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To my understanding it means becoming more girly. Over the last couple of weeks, i've found myself having this great need to put on a dress. yeah .. i know.. whats all the hype about putting on a dress. The thing is the last time i put on a dress, i was like 10 , 11 so this great desire is certainly news worthy. Even with every girl , their mamas, and their grandmas sporting an ankara dress i never made or wore one. I just didnt see myself wearing one and i had a long list of perfect excuses too.. it wouldn't fit well... ill look frumpy.... blah blah blah all so i wouldnt admit that i just didnt want to wear a dress at that time period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now that phase has passed and i find myself looking at dresses in a different light and im thinking to myself ...hmmm i think ill look fly in that..... and that..... and since i dont do half measures i want the whole girly lifestyle. The clothes, the make up, the bright colors, the reds, the pinks ... the whole works.. Now its not like i dont wear make up, i do i just dont do it all the time and i always miss something out, if its not eye shadow , its mascara e.t.c.. This need has been so great that ive had to sit myself down and ask whats with all this girly business? I asked my evil twin who is my resident shrink and she says that the need to be girly is just an expression of the big thing i want which is... yep you guessed right .. change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I want a new job, wat to meet new pple (i'm seriously bored with all the pple in my life right now).. so many things. I want to make a hairstlye that ive never had before , meet new pple etc in short i want to change my life and i want it right now. anyway sha i digress.&lt;br /&gt;so if u happen to run into or come across a beautiful (yes i say so myself ..sue me), curvy chick in this dress that would be me.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;P.S. Hell has officially frozen over. I AM ON A DIET.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-8809226453190628446?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/8809226453190628446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=8809226453190628446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/8809226453190628446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/8809226453190628446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2009/02/feminization-of-me-femization.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-1043491168178147396</id><published>2009-02-24T16:49:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T16:56:40.080+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I MISS U&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss u and i dont know why&lt;br /&gt;a few days pass without me having a single thought of u&lt;br /&gt;yet all of a sudden my face flushes, my heart skips a beat&lt;br /&gt;i remember and i get this ache down in my belly&lt;br /&gt;slowly , it spreads througout my body&lt;br /&gt;i get hot and cold at the same time&lt;br /&gt;i reach for my phone to call you .....&lt;br /&gt;but my memories hit me in the face like a dash of ice...&lt;br /&gt;My hand stills and i can't bring myself to make that call&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i go over myself and i send  an sms&lt;br /&gt;most times i say nothing, just hi&lt;br /&gt;but even when the coldness and the hurt of my memories still my hand&lt;br /&gt;still i miss u and i wonder how i could miss someone so much that my arms ache...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-1043491168178147396?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/1043491168178147396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=1043491168178147396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1043491168178147396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1043491168178147396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-miss-u-i-miss-u-and-i-dont-know-why.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-1038155883741814135</id><published>2008-09-09T17:50:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T19:46:26.335+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Finding My Rythm&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish there was some other word i could use right now but i cant seem to find any. It has been a loong while since ive been here. Every day i tell myself im going to blog today but time slips by and before i know it its time to go home. Right now ive decided to blog at least twice a week to make up for the lost time..... i hope i can make it LOL!!!!!!!!!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whats brought me back here asides the fact that i love to write? Well I do love to write and thats why im back and if all i ever write about is about myself my day or whatever happening around me then so be it. Not everyone was meant to write the great novel but some people were definitely meant to write short stories. nomore illusions of grandeur for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so wat been happening to me.......... a whole blog no..make that two blog posts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-1038155883741814135?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/1038155883741814135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=1038155883741814135' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1038155883741814135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1038155883741814135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2008/09/finding-my-rythm-i-wish-there-was-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-984943302510022557</id><published>2008-03-05T10:58:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T11:14:34.961+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;SO LONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hey blog, its been soo long since i've been here, i really have. I know u're wondering what happened to me. Well lets just say that Lagos, growing up and work happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So much has happened but i didn't have the words to express them. Now that i have the words, there so much that i feel like putting down and its crowding me 'cos every word wants to be put down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Got a new job in July last year and since then its like i've been on a rollercoaster. Crazy tasks and even crazier deadlines and im loving every minute of it.  Downside is the traffic i have to face every morning and evening but i think ive finally gotten a hang of it. I catch all my extra sleep in traffic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;On the flip side though I HAVE NO LIFE.... i go to work, go back home .. eat sleep and begin the cycle the next morning.... i seriously need to get a life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;there so much to talk about .... its been sooo long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i hope somehow in my mad schedule i can keep posting here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'M BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-984943302510022557?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/984943302510022557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=984943302510022557' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/984943302510022557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/984943302510022557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-long-hey-blog-its-been-soo-long.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-3259108104053715455</id><published>2008-01-02T10:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T11:56:25.938+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr-8lSNRI/AAAAAAAAACM/JHycZzKK-mU/s1600-h/images1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150829327986865426" style="WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" height="103" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr-8lSNRI/AAAAAAAAACM/JHycZzKK-mU/s320/images1.jpg" width="133" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_MlSNSI/AAAAAAAAACU/415S9fcUqjs/s1600-h/images2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150829332281832738" style="WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 121px" height="117" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_MlSNSI/AAAAAAAAACU/415S9fcUqjs/s320/images2.jpg" width="129" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_MlSNTI/AAAAAAAAACc/UYVMhhjzodQ/s1600-h/images3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150829332281832754" style="WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="119" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_MlSNTI/AAAAAAAAACc/UYVMhhjzodQ/s320/images3.jpg" width="140" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_clSNVI/AAAAAAAAACs/Hu4yd2onvsE/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150829336576800082" style="WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px" height="111" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_clSNVI/AAAAAAAAACs/Hu4yd2onvsE/s320/images.jpg" width="125" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;HAPPY NEWYEAR  Y'ALL &lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150829332281832770" style="WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" height="115" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr_MlSNUI/AAAAAAAAACk/EvVztphew7w/s320/images4.jpg" width="133" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-3259108104053715455?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/3259108104053715455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=3259108104053715455' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/3259108104053715455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/3259108104053715455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-newyear-yall.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/R3tr-8lSNRI/AAAAAAAAACM/JHycZzKK-mU/s72-c/images1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-7147456157365135381</id><published>2007-08-09T16:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T16:25:45.980+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;THIS PAGE IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-7147456157365135381?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/7147456157365135381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=7147456157365135381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7147456157365135381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7147456157365135381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-page-is-under-construction.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-7264399378877037048</id><published>2007-07-11T14:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T14:28:57.589+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;LETTER TO MY BLOG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hi blog,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Long time no see. e been don tay since when i come here last. no be my fault o na condition and situation cause am. Any way sha i don return and the return na with a big bang.  tory plenty and man pickin don waka. I wan thank all de people when ask after me.  Una do well o, may somebody do for you too..........................................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-7264399378877037048?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/7264399378877037048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=7264399378877037048' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7264399378877037048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7264399378877037048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/07/letter-to-my-blog-hi-blog-long-time-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-2900223309291804436</id><published>2007-03-09T11:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T11:40:18.895+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET GO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;By T. D. Jakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There are people who can walk away from you.&lt;br /&gt;And hear me when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you,  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;let them walk&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I don't want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I mean hang up the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;When people can walk away from you let them walk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Your destiny is never tied to anybody that left.&lt;br /&gt;The bible said that, they came out from us that it might be made manifest that they were not for us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For had they been of us, no doubt they would have continued with us. [1John 2:19]&lt;br /&gt;People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can't make them stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Let them go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;And it doesn't mean that they are a bad person it just means that their part in the story is over. And you've got to know when people's part in your story is over so that you don't keep trying to raise the dead.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You've got to know when it's dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;You've got to know when it's over. Let me tell you something. I've got the gift of good-bye. It's the tenth spiritual gift, I believe in good-bye. It's not that I'm hateful, it's that I'm faithful, and I know whatever God means for me to have He'll give it to me. And if it takes too much sweat I don't need it. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;So stop begging people to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Let them go!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are holding on to something that doesn't belong to you and was never intended for your life, then you need to......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are holding on to past hurts and pains ......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone can't treat you right, love you back, andsee your worth.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone has angered you .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are holding on to some thoughts of evil and revenge......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are involved in a wrong relationship or addiction......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are holding on to a job that no longer meets your needs or talents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you! u have a bad attitude.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep judging others to make yourself feel better......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're stuck in the past and God is trying to take you to a new level inHim........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;If you are struggling with the healing of a broken relationship.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep trying to help someone who won't even try to help themselves......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're feeling depressed and stressed ..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there is a particular situation that you are so used to handling yourself and God is saying "take your hands off of it," then you need to......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Let the past be the past. Forget the former things. GOD is doing a new thing for 2007!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get Right or Get Left .. think about it, and then .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LET IT GO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Because "The Battle is the Lord's!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-2900223309291804436?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/2900223309291804436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=2900223309291804436' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/2900223309291804436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/2900223309291804436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/03/let-go-by-t.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-4496703314114123364</id><published>2007-03-08T10:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T10:49:06.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I BELIEVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I BELIEVE THAT................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will find Love &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll find Happiness, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll shine like a star, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And all my dreams will come true. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Even though the night seems dark, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Dawn is sure to come......................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;STILL I BELIEVE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-4496703314114123364?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/4496703314114123364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=4496703314114123364' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/4496703314114123364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/4496703314114123364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-believe-i-believe-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-7900185831142069083</id><published>2007-02-19T11:11:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T11:56:02.953+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;IT'S BEEN ONE YEAR (HOW TIME FLIES)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The 16th of February marked exactly one year since my first post &lt;a href="http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/02/drawing-first-blood-keeping-journal.html#links"&gt;Drawing first blood&lt;/a&gt;. Its been quite a ride. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HAPPY BLOGGERVERSARY TO ME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;From the first ever blog i read &lt;a href="www.orenotes.blogspot.com"&gt;ore&lt;/a&gt; its been a wonderful whole new experience. Thanks Everyone for making my stay on &lt;a href="www.blogger.com"&gt;blogger&lt;/a&gt; wonderful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-7900185831142069083?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/7900185831142069083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=7900185831142069083' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7900185831142069083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7900185831142069083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/02/its-been-one-year-how-time-flies-16th_19.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-5018144012691252138</id><published>2007-02-13T16:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T11:51:17.675+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY VALENTINE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tomorrow is  valentines day and this year, i've decided that i want to have me a valentine. So this year, my valentine is someone who i've known almost forever. ...and before u go i know ,i know, ....&lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;/strong&gt; its not &lt;strong&gt;TG. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My decision to make sure i have a valentine goes way back to my 2nd year @unilorin. Yep University of Ilorin. My name is Adunni and i graduated from the university of ilorin. well anyway it was my 2nd year at uni, and valentines day was around the corner. I wasn't doing too good in the relationships department... in fact i wasn't even in the department. Not only that, i couldn't think of any admirer of mine who would claim me as their val and all that stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My girlfriend Aisha and i were mooning about our val less fate one evening when it suddenly occured to us that hey!!! since our chances of getting gifts and stuff of any kind on val's day was very ... very... very.. slim,we'd just val each other. That way, when all the other girls were getting gifts we wouldn't be too miserable as we'd at least have something to console ourselves with and we wouldnt be too miserable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So we bought each other gifts and funny enough we had a swell time. We made &lt;strong&gt;concotion&lt;/strong&gt; rice , made a cake and bought Zobo drinks. In fact we had a lot more fun than most of our friends who had boyfriends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well this year once again i've decided to console myself 'cos this year i most certainly need it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And my Valentine is........(drum roll) not its not Aisha (she's married now) its my friend "Y"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My friend "Y" I've known her forever. We attended the same primary school but we were barely friends 'cos we were always in different classes. We hooked up after secondary school. Sh'd come back to Lagos to stay with her Grandma whose house is on the same street as my mum's shop. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I remeber the day we met again. I was opening my mum's shop one morning and this girl walks up to me from nowhere and asks if i'd attended Convent(Maryland Convent Private School). I said yes ,we struck up a conversation and that was it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now i must confess if she hadn't walked up to me, i wonder if we'd have met otherwise. 'Cos i rarely do stuff like walk up to people and introduce myself (Im really really shy but people find it hard to believe though). And so we've been friends since. We've had our issues and all that but we're still good friends. I'd like to believe that its because we've both made a concious effort to stay friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Coincidentally we were born a mere 20 days apart she 5th of July and I'm 25th. We almost always have the same issues at the same time for example she had one extra at school and i had two extras....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We've been through thick and thin together "Y" and I. I call her gradma my grandma 'cos we're so close. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now i could go on and on about "Y" shes smart, sazzy, beautiful,tall, elegant,intelligent plus shes the best marketer there is (i know.... i know... i'm biased).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But thats not why she's my Val. She's my Val 'cos she's my support system. She's always there whenever i need to just yak about my issues. She encourages me. She's a source of strenght and comfort. She's a great person and i'm just glad that she's my friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY LOVELY VALENTINE.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now that i've gone and made it official that she's my valentine, i know that she will not let me "hear word" till i get her a gift..... Now what do i get my Valentine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-5018144012691252138?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/5018144012691252138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=5018144012691252138' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/5018144012691252138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/5018144012691252138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-valentine-last-week-wednesday-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-7328738830623580763</id><published>2007-01-24T22:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T00:05:56.210+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;FUNNY&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was going through my sent folder tonight and i came across this email. What i can't believe is that i actually got this mail, read it fowarded it to every one on my messanger list and yahoo address book and promptly forgot about it.  Now forgetting about it................ this stuff is so profound and it seems like a sort of warning for me 'cos i got it in January 2006.  Its like someone somewhere had seen what would happen in 2006 and sent me this email as a warning or a guide sort of, so i would be able to recognise some things........... maybe....... maybe not....... point is I forgot .... forgot............ forgot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well enough with my smacking myself on the head.. ill let u emmmm read it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed ever let you down probably will. Youwill have your heart broken, probably more than once,and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too,so remember how it felt when yours was broken.You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did.You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.  Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot; who  calls you back when you hang up on him; who will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead; who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats; who holds your hand in front of his friends. Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares aboutyou and how lucky he is to have you. Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, "..that's her"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Send this to as many people as u can in 15 minutes to carry on the chain...and spare yourself the emotional  stress.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well i sent it to as many people as i could but i forgot to read it myself. Now as i finally read it, I wish i had read it myself instead of just going ohhhh thats  sooo true ill send it to every one. Maybe i really would have saved myself the emotional turmoil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-7328738830623580763?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/7328738830623580763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=7328738830623580763' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7328738830623580763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/7328738830623580763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/01/funny-i-was-going-through-my-sent.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-5811792425971670922</id><published>2007-01-03T09:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:43:38.857+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy  New Year everyone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-5811792425971670922?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/5811792425971670922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=5811792425971670922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/5811792425971670922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/5811792425971670922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year-everyone.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-1285655771381320847</id><published>2006-12-27T13:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T13:55:24.484+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/RZJhZ8eqKNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Tshbgo23qk0/s1600-h/blog2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013176433576126674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/RZJhZ8eqKNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Tshbgo23qk0/s320/blog2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/RZJhZ8eqKOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qgBUHX-wwA8/s1600-h/blog2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013176433576126690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/RZJhZ8eqKOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qgBUHX-wwA8/s320/blog2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-1285655771381320847?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/1285655771381320847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=1285655771381320847' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1285655771381320847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/1285655771381320847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/RZJhZ8eqKNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Tshbgo23qk0/s72-c/blog2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-116661844538680789</id><published>2006-12-20T13:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T13:40:52.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm about to switch to the new version of blogger i Hope i wont regret it o!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-116661844538680789?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/116661844538680789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=116661844538680789' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116661844538680789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116661844538680789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-about-to-switch-to-new-version-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-116585590256595637</id><published>2006-12-11T17:40:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T17:36:52.230+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Its been so long. At first I didn’t have much to talk about, and then I had stuff to say but no way to put it up. So much has happened and ive missed this space. Work is fine but right now I have a love hate relationship with it. I hate the long procedures and mountain of paper work I have to sort out almost everyday but the meeting people, applying what I know to sort out situations ….. I like.&lt;br /&gt;I also hate my boss. I think im in a mindy situation only that this time mindy is a man.&lt;br /&gt;In all life’s been good. Boring but good in cant complain. I’m still in the market for a job ‘cos I really don’t want to stay here long..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Closure&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When people talk about closure, I wonder what they mean. Does it mean that one gets to a point where you just stop thinking about whatever it is you need closure on or do you get to a point where you consciously decide that no matter what you will not think about this issue or be sad about it even if it kills u. I really wonder which it is.&lt;br /&gt;If only to stop these sudden bursts of depression and sudden rush of emotion then I’d really like to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Of Clay feet and Tin gods&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emm I don’t quite know how to say this but i guess theres no other way.&lt;br /&gt;Its over. Yep. It didn’t last very long . Sometimes I think that it never really happened. I feel like ive been holding on to a mirage and when I finally look down at my hands I find that there’s nothing but air. Like it was never real. Funny though I feel strangely calm.&lt;br /&gt;At first I was so ashamed. Whenever I fail I feel such a great sense of shame and with each failure ive had the sense of shame increases in magnitude each time. It makes me want to run and hide under a chair (childish.. I know). At those times I walk with my head down ‘cos im trying to hide my face so no one would see the shame written there.&lt;br /&gt;After a while I gave myself a good talking to. This really wasn’t about me so why feel shame? After that I felt a lot better but I still feel very very very sad. I feel sad but I don’t feel so ashamed anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I feel disappointed though. Very disappointed. Not in what has happened but in someone I thought the best of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to think the best of people until proven otherwise but in this case its like having reality slammed in my face.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so silly. I thought that he was different, that I knew this person, that it was about me, that he would not do something like that , that he was special, that ................................................&lt;br /&gt;I guess I finally found out that my tin god has feet of clay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive been fine really but some days are better than some. Ive had good days and bad days and today I don’t even know whats wrong with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Im sad. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-116585590256595637?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/116585590256595637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=116585590256595637' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116585590256595637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116585590256595637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/12/so-long-its-been-so-long_11.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-116161737277772584</id><published>2006-10-23T16:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T19:29:43.416+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ok I'm back.&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy to say that things have finally shaped up. I've gone from jobless to jobfull if there's any such thing as that.&lt;br /&gt;I got a job and in the past few weeks i've attended more aptitude tests and interviews. than i would care to remember its just the same old drama over and over again. Anyway for the past month i've been working in a small healthcare company in oregun. It's not the job of my dreams in fact its far from it, but im managing it while i wait for the job i want. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ive been through quite a bit the past few weeks and ive learnt a bit about myself as well. Him ..... well  thats a story  for another day suffice to say there plenty of drama going on right now. Funny thing is the more the drama the calmer i get. In the past i always thought that we could always talk and lately we've talked a lot more honestly than we ever have. There's still plenty of drama sha o!!  plenty plenty drama but me ... im just calm so calm that even I am suprised at my own reaction. More self dicovery i guess. But anyway sha i miss him like crazy right now but it doesnt hurt so much anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ive missed blogging i really have but no internet at work yet so I'm using my oga's wireless. He'd better not catch me here.  Id better get out of here before he does. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;BTW my job is in procurement and my boss is the finance manager. Ive learnt a lot about accounting this past month enough to know why accountanats are soooo boring. Anyone would be too if all they had to do all day was look at figures. Any way ive gotta run but i will most definitely be back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-116161737277772584?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/116161737277772584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=116161737277772584' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116161737277772584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116161737277772584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/10/ok-im-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-116161693257428316</id><published>2006-10-23T16:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T16:22:12.600+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok i got a job. Be right back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-116161693257428316?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/116161693257428316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=116161693257428316' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116161693257428316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/116161693257428316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/10/ok-i-got-job.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115858632279721643</id><published>2006-09-18T14:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T14:32:03.026+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Back in Lagos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So i'm back in Lagos and seriously job hunting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One thing i hate abut it all is the silence. I had better get a job soon. Problem is i can't find anything to blog about. My life is pretty boring right now. Hopefully  things will pick up soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115858632279721643?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115858632279721643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115858632279721643' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115858632279721643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115858632279721643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/09/back-in-lagos-so-im-back-in-lagos-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115746821312426960</id><published>2006-09-05T15:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T16:52:01.234+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/blog3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/blog3.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115746821312426960?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115746821312426960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115746821312426960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115746821312426960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115746821312426960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115713433391267634</id><published>2006-09-01T18:56:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T20:40:46.376+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A TRIBUTE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To all those whose paths crossed mine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To all those who knew me, I say I love you all and I'll miss u&lt;br /&gt;To all those I knew but couldn't sum up the courage to speak to I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;To all the friends I made I look forward to keeping the friendship alive&lt;br /&gt;This poem is for u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the North south east and west we came&lt;br /&gt;All with a common goal (NYSC)&lt;br /&gt;Getting to know each other&lt;br /&gt;Sharing so much in the space of one year&lt;br /&gt;Getting to know ourselves&lt;br /&gt;Only to find that the time is up&lt;br /&gt;And we've got to part&lt;br /&gt;I'll Miss u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Poem is for:&lt;br /&gt;Lanre(My Popsie), Nnenna(his girfriend) Ngozi(his wife), Chris, Ijeoma, Obi(ohby not obi) &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[The kaduna south crew]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Samira Balarabe , Aisha, Rekiya, Salamatu &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[All my married pregnant and/or nursing babies peeps]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Aisha(my camp bunkie), Halima, Joyce, Rita, Loveth, Fati, Nneka (single), Nneka (married), Sa’adatu, Yetunde, Ada(my most cherished ibo friend who can speak my language better than me and who left me behind in kaduna), Ngozi, Tochi, Oby (FFO), Grace, Mercy, Racheal(Halima kangoro) &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[all the G2 ladies at black gold orientation camp]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Yomi(Member of my club), Gracious, Id, curtis &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[The dicon crew]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;And others who I met by a stoke of sheer luck&lt;br /&gt;Dami(cry cry), Chinwe, Ogochukwu(ogo fine girl), Linda(P4 !!!), Yetunde, Big Chichi(P4!!!!), Oyin, Supo, Tobi (Fake gentleman)and all those too numerous to mention&lt;br /&gt;I raise my hat to you all. &lt;strong&gt;It was a pleasure knowing u.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115713433391267634?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115713433391267634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115713433391267634' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115713433391267634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115713433391267634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/09/tribute-to-all-those-whose_115713433391267634.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115713290152062647</id><published>2006-09-01T18:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T20:46:21.886+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FACING THE FUTURE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/door.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" height="126" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/door.jpg" width="72" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I find myself on the edge of the unknown. Afraid to move on cos I'm afraid of tomorrow. Not knowing whats out there. I'm sure I cannot stay but I'm scared of what tomorrow holds.&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long hard road I've traveled a road full of trials, pain, joy, deapair a journey of self discovery. Over the last few months I've finally felt confident to enough to say to say yes I know me I feel like I finally grew up I don’t feel like such a fraud anymore afraid someone somewhere will realize that im not for real that I'm just faking being grown up.&lt;br /&gt;But still as I stand on the threshold of the unknown my heart skips a beat my step falters and for a minute im not sure anymore with every beat of my heart thud thud a billion questions cross my mind and I have no answers to them.&lt;br /&gt;I just wish that I could like get a sneak preview so I'll be sure that ill be sure that everything will be fine. But alas life does not give sneak previews I guess it would take the surprise out of it.&lt;br /&gt;I just wish someone would hold me and tall me that my tomorrow will be just fine.&lt;br /&gt;Im like a man facing a door&lt;br /&gt;Afraid to open the door 'cos he doesn’t know what's beyond the door&lt;br /&gt;But yet i've got to open the door 'cos I cannot stay here I'll just comfort myself with these words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"For I know he who holds tomorrow and I know he holds my hand" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115713290152062647?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115713290152062647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115713290152062647' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115713290152062647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115713290152062647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/09/facing-future-once-again-i-find-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115712180375599906</id><published>2006-09-01T14:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T20:44:10.993+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Passing out (not literarily) and passing the baton of NYSC gist to &lt;a href="http://traedays.com/blog/"&gt;Trae&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Free at last&lt;br /&gt;Free at last&lt;br /&gt;Thank God Almighty&lt;br /&gt;I'm free at last."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yes!!!!!!!!!!! thank God Im free at last. No more General CD, no more wahala, no more drama no more queues, no more LI trouble I'm freeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;The road has been rough it's been tough at last I'm free. Now unto the next phase. Do I hear a masters? Maybe (at least there wont be NYSC afterwards). A &lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;asters in &lt;strong&gt;R&lt;/strong&gt;esidential &lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt;tudies with 21/2 kids and a dog? Nahhhhhhhhhhhhh not just yet. What about the big job in VI? Most definitely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the final march past when the whole of Murtala Mohammed Stadim Kaduna erupted in cheers with everyone hugging each other, I broke out in goose bumps. It was finally over . It was a beautiful ceremony and the partade was perfect. With the lackadaisical attitude we'd shown during rehearsal one would think that the parade would be a flop but it wasn't. With half the female population of corpers either pregnant or nursing babies and more than 60% of the remaining half pretending to be including a fair percentage of guys I'd half expected the thing to be terrible but it wasn’t.&lt;br /&gt;Lots of kudos to the parade team batch B 2006 and of course our very able parade commander Idris Taiwo (all the best in the NDA).&lt;br /&gt;After the euphoria of the parade we went back to the usual NYSC way. We had to pay 500 naira for the state corpers magazine and another 500 was deducted from our transport allowance for the NYSc foundation . All this after paying 500 for our club mags and another 500 for the local government mags Now I've got all these mags that are totally useless to me. Plus including a certificate of meritorious (yeah right) service from my club.&lt;br /&gt;Talk about serious extortion. Collecting the certificate was the easy part. Collecting the transport allowance was the nightmare. Trust NYSC to come up with a nightmare moment. They paid by hand and you can imagine over 1500 people trying to collect money from a few points. It was simply hellish. Some people were like it was all in a bid to make us forget the money so every body was like lai!!!!lai they must collect their 500 naira. I didn’t collect mine until past six. In all I was just grateful. I had done it. My certificate was ok my name was spelt right. &lt;strong&gt;I AM FREE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I look around&lt;br /&gt;Trying to burn the memory&lt;br /&gt;of the faces around me&lt;br /&gt;in my heart&lt;br /&gt;knowing that I may never see &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;some of these faces again&lt;br /&gt;goose bumps cover me&lt;br /&gt;and tears fill my eye&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss them; the camaraderie&lt;br /&gt;the empathy, the hugs&lt;br /&gt;the handshakes, the shared troubles&lt;br /&gt;the shared job hunts, the tests we did together&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss this year&lt;br /&gt;'cos I know that i'll never come thru here again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115712180375599906?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115712180375599906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115712180375599906' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115712180375599906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115712180375599906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/09/passing-out-not-literarily-and-passing.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115695362923747024</id><published>2006-08-30T13:15:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T13:28:37.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CATCHING MY BREATH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry its been a while. Things have been crazy around here lately. So many things happening all at once I didn’t even have time to catch my breath. My bday, another aptitude test , a journey, and passing out parade. Its been soo hectic.&lt;br /&gt;Remember the &lt;a href="http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/06/eight-weeks-moresubtle-pressures-and.html"&gt;Nigerian breweries application&lt;/a&gt;? Well, Miracle of miracles!!! I was invited for the assessment test. Yes o!!!! moi was invited for the aptitude test. Problem was it took place in&lt;br /&gt;Lagos so I had to take a quick trip to Lagos to write it, Immediately after my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/P7240005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" height="120" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/P7240005.jpg" width="144" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Talking about the birthday .. it was nice no scratch that it was lovely. I had a great time . I had cake and drinks for a few friends and I took loads of pictures. &lt;a href="http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/05/can-my-heart-take-itthe-name-that.html"&gt;He&lt;/a&gt; was the first to call me on my birthday and he really made my day.&lt;br /&gt;The test was soooo nice. It was so cool in short it was a test like none I had attended before. I had a good time. We wrote the test in the fully airconditioned multi purpose hall B at the University of lagos Akoka. For the first time I actually had fun at a test. Apart from the usual camaraderie that happens at most assessment test, the people at my table were so funny. We had a good time while waiting for the test to start swapping NYSC and jub hunting stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing out parade was great as well the week before it, we had NYSC week in kaduna. There was a career seminar... picture this scene. A guy stands on a podium giving a lecture while his supposed audience were busy chatting, gisting, looking for the attendance sheet, carrying babies, and all what not. Poor guy I wonder how much they paid him to give the lecture ‘cos I wondered what it took for him to give a lecture to a bunch of people who weren’t even listening. Then there was a Bob- A- Job which we later found out was a scam by the LI’s and ZI’s as NYSC did not ask us to do it they just came up with it on their own.&lt;br /&gt;They gave us collection slips. They pegged the minimum return at five hundred naira I made 2800, I gave them 500 naira and pocketed the rest, it was a good thing I did ‘cos when the state coordinator asked them to refund the money they only paid out 500 naira each regardless of how much u returned. Then there was community service day and we were once again asked to go and sweep the central market. Im not sure any body did though. We just went there and put our names down.&lt;br /&gt;Why they feel a need to keep asking us to sweep the market all in the name of community service is beyond me. I mean surely there are better ways of developing the community than sweeping the market. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115695362923747024?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115695362923747024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115695362923747024' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115695362923747024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115695362923747024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/08/catching-my-breath-sorry-its-been_30.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115626610024498420</id><published>2006-08-22T17:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T14:06:53.820+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;red hot&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Gist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Before I go to the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;gist&lt;/span&gt; could I ask a question? Okay here goes , why do people love &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;gist&lt;/span&gt; soo much!!!?&lt;br /&gt;Actually the gist is ……………………….. right &lt;a href="http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/05/can-my-heart-take-itthe-name-that.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Nothing much really except that sometimes I feel like I'm walking on air.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know exactly how to write about it. I suppose I'll divulge as time goes on.&lt;br /&gt;I have my fears and stuff… most of the time…….&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared that it's not for real, that it's some kind of joke that it won't work out, that I'll wake up and it'll be all a dream ….. in short I'm scared of being scared. I'm just sooo contradictory right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I feel like I can't help myself yet I feel like I chose to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Awwwww&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I wish the butterflies in my stomach would just go away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115626610024498420?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115626610024498420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115626610024498420' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115626610024498420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115626610024498420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/08/red-hot-gist-before-i-go-to-gist-could.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115445609737777107</id><published>2006-08-01T19:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T19:43:26.393+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'cos i know you'll be reading&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the phone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I look up, a smile lights up my face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I pause, listen and my smile grows wider&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I look for a quiet corner&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Something warm uncoils from the bottom of my belly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It spreads throughout my body&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;my feet, my hands, my face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I feel hot and cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The distance between us disappears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;your hand holds mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I feel safe, I feel loved&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm on the phone with u&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115445609737777107?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115445609737777107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115445609737777107' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115445609737777107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115445609737777107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/08/cos-i-know-youll-be-reading-on-phone-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115324459197946924</id><published>2006-07-18T17:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T19:35:06.943+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JUST RAMBLING&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was invited for a second interview at spring bank. It went well considering the circumstances . NEPA ooops sorry PHCN struck all nite and all morning and my only one in town outfit (the one I greet obasanjo in ) needed ironing . So I had no choice but to go iron it at work . I waited a bit but in the end I just packed my load and went to dress up for the interview at work. Only for me to get to work and find that the building had been burgled overnite. I just made a few sympatethic noises and headed to my office to iron my stuff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It was obviously an inside job. No locks were broken except the offices whose keys were never kept in the building. Moreover, there are supposed to be security guards on duty. So how could someone have gotten into the building without them noticing anything. Anyway I had to go for my interview so I took permission from my immediate boss and left. I was already running late and I didn’t want to waste time ohhhhhhhhing and ahhhhhhhing over something that was so obvious, it was idiotic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The interview went well. I got there late but the interview had not started. The interview itself was brief and to the point . The people on the panel were direct and did not waste any time. In the end they promised to get back to us and I left the place. I went back to work expecting that some peeps would have been arrested or at least called in for questioning but no show. The police had been to the place but no arrests had been made and nobody had been questioned. Why? Beats me. Well sha na them saka o. Come August 17th I'm outta here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The oceanic bank test …......... No show they’ve already called people for the interview and I wasn’t called. At first we thought it was ‘cos were hadn't finished service but some corpers were called for the interview ……. So I guess its not what you know but who you know. And the UBA test was just as bad ... no show. We later heard that some people who did not write the test had been called for the interview ..............mmmhhh now that's some serious man know man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s my birthday next week tuesday . When I look back at where I've been and where I am now, I'm amazed. To think there was a time when I didn’t think I would ever make it. It's just simply amazing. If not for God's grace and mercy I don’t know where I would have been today. I'm just soo thankful to him for seeing me through it all.  Plus I'm happy about something ........wink !!!!!....wink!!!! but I can't blog about it just yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115324459197946924?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115324459197946924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115324459197946924' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115324459197946924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115324459197946924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-rambling-i-was-invited-for-second.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115323504181640142</id><published>2006-07-18T13:33:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T17:22:22.010+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WHAT I WANT TO BE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/79293983_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 121px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/79293983_1.jpg" width="167" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Question:What did the red mini say to the fire engine? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Answer: When I grow up, I'm going to be just like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/images4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 109px" height="129" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/images4.jpg" width="140" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115323504181640142?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115323504181640142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115323504181640142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115323504181640142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115323504181640142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/07/what-i-want-to-be-questionwhat-did-red.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-115253467572633847</id><published>2006-07-10T12:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T14:11:27.403+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE NEW JAMB&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sorry it’s been a while, I just didn’t have the words. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot has happened to me over the last few weeks. I’ve been writing bank tests and I also had an interview. Although they’re for positions that are in kaduna and I’m not too keen but we’ll see how it goes. In the last three weeks, I’ve written three bank tests; one UBA, one oceanic bank, another UBA test just last week Saturday, one Bank interview and I’ll be writing another one this Saturday but for FCMB this time. At the rate, I’m writing these tests one would think I really wanted a banking career up North but the truth is …. Shhhhhhh don’t tell anyone.. I actually don’t want a career in banking and even if I did I most definitely do not want it in the north. I really, really do not want to live here. Why? That story is for some other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the bank tests. Some where okay and orderly, started on time and ended at a decent hour but some namely the oceanic bank test were an absolute nightmare. Test was supposed to start at three but didn’t start until about 5pm. The crowd was indescribable (according to grapevine, oceanic bank is the highest paying bank hence the large turn out), the hall was not large enough to contain us all and the officials of the bank did not want double seating , so we wrote the test in batches. I didn’t want to rush so I didn’t get into the hall until around 11.30 p.m. the test lasted for 50 minutes and my batch left the hall around 12. 40 a.m. and I didn’t get home until about 1.20 a.m. by the time I finally got to write the test, I was cold and tired I’d been waiting for more than six hours (I got there at 4.30p.m.) in my office clothes and my feet were screaming for mercy. There was no light so they had to put on a generator and there were flies everywhere in the hall. At that point, I was in no frame of mind to be writing an aptitude test but I just had to do it and hope for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the drama involved in these tests reminded me of the days of almighty JAMB and POLYJAMB exams. In fact, these bank tests could be considered the new JAMB only this time the exams are for graduates. While we loitered around the hall waiting for our turn to write the test, most people talked politics and football but my girl and I spent our time checking out some of the oceanic bank staff. There was his foine guy but he was a bit short. According to my girl, "if I come find work and I find husband, all good now. Make I sha no leave empty handed".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'd like to give kudos to the staff of the bank. They stayed until the last batch of people had written the test . I know they were just doing their job but they could have easily told the rest of us to go home, but they didn't instead they waited till past 2.a.m so that everybody had the chance to at least write the test and i think that's really something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-115253467572633847?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/115253467572633847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=115253467572633847' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115253467572633847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/115253467572633847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/07/new-jamb-sorry-its-been-while-i-just.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114996339284268449</id><published>2006-06-10T15:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T14:59:50.353+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EIGHT WEEKS MORE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(SUBTLE PRESSURES AND EMPLOYMENT ISSUES)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For the past week I’ve been kind of tense, especially since after the last clearance, when it dawned on me that this was the second to the last clearance i would do, before passing out from the NYSC . One more clearance and it would be all over. No more Clearance, no more CD meetings (Which i barely attended), no more General CD, no more having to deal with power crazy NYSC officials and My all time favourite no more queues. In less than eight weeks, it will be all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As the days pass, I’ve been feeling a little more tense. It's like there's something in the air. It 's subtle but its there. Employment issues, and therefore many questions. After Youth Service, what next? How do I go about getting a job (the big job in VI no less)? Now there lies the source of my tension.&lt;br /&gt;Eight weeks more and we’ll be collecting our last allawi from Government and we’ll be going into the labour market. I must admit, after almost one year of collecting that allawi I’m kind of used to it and I know most of us will miss it when it's all over.&lt;br /&gt;It's all we talk about now, my corper friends and I. Which company is hiring, which one is accepting resumes blah blah...&lt;br /&gt;We applied to Nigerian breweries, and my tracking code was 46,270 yep that’s forty-six thousand two hundred and seventy. My friend's was 58,100 that’s fifty- eight thousand one hundred and we began to wonder if the tracking code was an indication of the number of people that were applying to Nigerian breweries at the time, then what were our chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eight more weeks and it will be all over. I’m scared, happy, excited and curious all at the same time. I’m scared of what lies ahead but at the same time I’m excited and curious to know what the future will bring. I’m thankful to God for seeing me through this NYSC (I believe he already has). And for all that I’ve been privileged to learn and to discover, for the grace to find myself, for the opportunity to add value to myself as an individual and to my career, for the people I’ve had the opportunity to meet and for so many other things. For all these things and more, I’m happy&lt;br /&gt;But I’m still scared and I wonder Will all my dreams come true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114996339284268449?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114996339284268449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114996339284268449' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114996339284268449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114996339284268449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/06/eight-weeks-moresubtle-pressures-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114986167690882378</id><published>2006-06-09T13:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T16:03:10.493+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;REMEMBER ANY OF THESE?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I came across this &lt;a href="http://www.classickidstv.co.uk/"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt; by accident and boy did it send me down memory lane the same way &lt;a href="http://onada01.blogspot.com/2006/05/childhood-tv-shows-does-anyone.html"&gt;Onada's &lt;/a&gt;post did. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/junior.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 137px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="147" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/junior.1.jpg" width="105" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/fraggle%20Rock.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" height="147" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/fraggle%20Rock.3.jpg" width="199" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/wembley.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" height="147" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/wembley.3.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/danga%20mouse.4.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" height="177" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/danga%20mouse.4.png" width="161" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/mb.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" height="176" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/mb.4.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/logo.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 131px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="174" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/logo.1.jpg" width="194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/jimbo1.6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" height="196" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/jimbo1.6.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/gforce2.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="195" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/gforce2.4.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/Gforce.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" height="196" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/Gforce.3.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/pic2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px" height="167" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/pic2.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/gadget2.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" height="148" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/gadget2.4.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/gang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" height="168" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/gang.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/fraggle%20Rock.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I loved them every single one of them. Did you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/Gforce.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114986167690882378?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114986167690882378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114986167690882378' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114986167690882378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114986167690882378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/06/remember-any-of-these-i-came-across.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114977133884309980</id><published>2006-06-08T13:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T14:11:35.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I AM  JEAN GREY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 110px; HEIGHT: 129px" height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whichofthexmenareyouquiz/jean-grey.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Although your fate is often unknown, you always seem to survive (even after death).Your mind is your greatest weapon, literally!&lt;br /&gt;Powers: telepathy and telekinesis, the ability to project thoughts into the mind of others, communication with animals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whichofthexmenareyouquiz/"&gt;Which of the X-Men Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I always knew my mind was my greatest weapon&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114977133884309980?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114977133884309980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114977133884309980' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114977133884309980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114977133884309980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-am-jean-greyalthough-your-fate-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114960608910710371</id><published>2006-06-06T14:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T16:16:05.550+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A-Z MEME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I got tagged Yay!!!!!!!!. When this tag started i wasn't sure i would be tagged. Memories of Maryland Convent came to me. We would be playing "mother may I " or "Ten Ten" and i would always be the last to be picked well almost always sha. Anyway just when i thought i wouldn't be tagged i got tagged by &lt;a href="www.stipulations.blogspot.com"&gt;biodun&lt;/a&gt; and the lovely&lt;a href="http://ariike.blogspot.com/"&gt; belle&lt;/a&gt;. Who i'm in love with right now by the way.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Here are my answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Accent&lt;/strong&gt; - NONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Booze&lt;/strong&gt; - No booze. No alcohol either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chore I hate&lt;/strong&gt; - Ironing and cooking even though I can do it and very well too .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dogs/Cats&lt;/strong&gt; - I don’t know. I haven’t had any. The closest I’ve been to any was my grandma’s cat (spoilt rotten) and my neighbors’ dogs (they don’t take care of them). I think having any pet and not taking care of them is criminal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Essential electronics&lt;/strong&gt; - My phone that’s all. I however have a wish list (Laptop I even have a fund it (The buy Adunni A Laptop fund), Digital camera ….. for now ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favourite Perfume&lt;/strong&gt; - No Favourites. I once liked burberry (my sister’s) but I broke the bottle .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gold/Silver&lt;/strong&gt; - GOLD most definitely. I live in the north now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hometown&lt;/strong&gt; - I was born and raised in Lagos so my hometown is Lagos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Insomnia&lt;/strong&gt; - Never even when I have BIG issues on my mind. Thinking about them wearies me and I promptly fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Job Title&lt;/strong&gt; - Library Database Administrator (Youth Corper) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kids&lt;/strong&gt; - None at the moment but I’d love two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Living arrangements&lt;/strong&gt; - With my friend’s family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Most admired trait&lt;/strong&gt; - I didn’t know so I asked around my office and they said my smile. I'd like to think it's my face. It's very smooth (i've never had a pimple) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Number of sexual partners&lt;/strong&gt; - Has anybody answered this question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Overnight hospital stays&lt;/strong&gt; - None&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Phobia&lt;/strong&gt; - Small spaces (Claustrophobia).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote&lt;/strong&gt; - “In the depth of winter I finally realized there was in me an invisible summer”. Albert Calmus ( I really didn’t have one so I “borrowed” one from &lt;a href="www.albibie.blogspot.com"&gt;unveiling&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Religion&lt;/strong&gt; - Christian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Siblings&lt;/strong&gt; - One brother, a fashionista younger sister and a baby sister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time I usually awake&lt;/strong&gt; - anything between 5.30a.m. and 6.00 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unusual talent&lt;/strong&gt; - The ability to explode over the minutest things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vegetable I refuse to eat&lt;/strong&gt; - Garden eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst habit&lt;/strong&gt; - Procrastination and Jumping to conclusions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;X-rays&lt;/strong&gt; - NONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yummy foods I make&lt;/strong&gt; - Pancakes, fruit cakes, Amala , gbegiri and ewedu (My mum actually said so !!!!!! and she’s really really hard to please when it comes to food), Ilaalasepo and a mean efo riro with seven spirits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Zodiac sign&lt;/strong&gt; - Leo &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now i tag......... &lt;a href="http://dilichi.blogspot.com/"&gt;Dilichi&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://omoge4life.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tutsy&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://according2adaure.blogspot.com/"&gt;Adaure&lt;/a&gt; and everybody that hasn't already been tagged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114960608910710371?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114960608910710371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114960608910710371' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114960608910710371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114960608910710371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/06/z-meme-i-got-tagged-yay.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114951299767123737</id><published>2006-06-05T13:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T14:45:13.476+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PLACES I WOULD LOVE TO VISIT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/640/PI3.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px" height="245" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/PI3.jpg" width="288" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;IN&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;my last post, I wrote that I would love to travel and see all the places that I usually read of. Writing about it got me thinking so I decided to blog about it.Now I have never really traveled outside Nigeria before(does cotonu count?) , but I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of going places. As a child, I’d “read” picture books about places and wonder what they were like. What did they look, smell, and feel like? Do they really look as glamorous as they did in the magazines? Or were they just plain and ordinary ………. I’d stare at a picture until I could see it in my mind’s eye , then I would give “life” to the picture by imagining what it would be like if this moved or that moved or sometimes I’d picture myself there ………..As a result, even though I’ve never really been to those places, I’ve been there in my mind.Here's some places i would love to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/640/PIC44.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 385px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" height="231" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/PIC44.jpg" width="271" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/640/PIC4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 384px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px" height="244" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/PIC4.jpg" width="278" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/640/PIC8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="240" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/PIC8.jpg" width="383" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114951299767123737?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114951299767123737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114951299767123737' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114951299767123737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114951299767123737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/06/places-i-would-love-to-visit-in-my_05.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114899386094684319</id><published>2006-05-30T10:51:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T13:57:40.986+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;50 things you probably didn't know about me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This post was inspired by &lt;a href="http://taureanminx.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-about-me.html"&gt;taurean minx&lt;/a&gt; who was inspired by &lt;a href="http://http//lowlabunnie.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-about-me.html"&gt;Low.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I had my first kiss in my twenties.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I attended an all girls secondary school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm the second of four I have an older brother (We fought all through childhood and we still do occasionally. It is not my fault he always starts it), a fashionista younger sister and a teenage sister (although we still insist she's a baby). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I look almost exactly like my mom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My name reminds one of a mother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I cherish friendships to a fault and I’d sometimes go out of my way for people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have a sweet tooth. It's legendary. Ask my friends they'll tell you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My favourite meal is rice (regardless of the form or dish it comes in I LOVE RICE) .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I HATE BEANS.I won't eat it unless I’m starving. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I've never been drunk in my entire life. I’m not sure i've had anything alcoholic either. Does palm wine count? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm allergic to malt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My favorite color is blue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Reading is not a love for me, it's a passion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I love the smell of a new book. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was a romance novel junkie. I still read the occasional one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have a problem with badly spoken English. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have a problem with badly written English. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I love music and sometimes I wish I could sing well but alas, I cannot hold a tune. So says my baby sister. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I’ve never fainted in my entire life. Though not for want of trying or wishing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I acted in my first drama at the NYSC orientation camp. My friends call it my one scene movie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My favorite song changes every few weeks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Whenever I find a favorite song, I over listen to it, until I get sick of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I’m not attracted to light skinned or skinny guys &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I can't really dance as well as I would love to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'd love to travel and see the places that I usually read about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I've just found out that I love shoes beautiful shoes, the ones I only get to see in mags or on the net but cannot afford. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I hate the way females are portrayed in Home videos and musicals. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I love GOD and I’ve come to a place where I can confidently say that I have a walk with him and I understand where I am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm not very fat but i'm big which means i have curves in all the right places. And i love it. No diets for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My ultimate occupational goal is to run a bookstore and a software outfit. I even have names for them. (i won't tell you so no one will copy them before i get enough money to start. )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;And lest I forget I’m a bloody romantic . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;to be continued&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114899386094684319?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114899386094684319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114899386094684319' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114899386094684319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114899386094684319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/05/50-things-you-probably-didnt-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114780282907576166</id><published>2006-05-16T18:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T19:28:06.566+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CAN MY HEART TAKE IT?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(The Name that Launched a Thousand Letters)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It’s been seven years. In the beginning, it was beautiful. When I look back I realize that it was almost magical. It felt good to have a friend like “you”. I was so proud of me. I was able to be platonic no strings attached friends with a guy. The whole school including my closest female friends thought we were dating. They must have seen something we didn’t see.&lt;br /&gt;First year was such a mess for me everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. My glasses broke every week, had malaria every other weekend, misplaced things, issues with my friends, endless incidents. When I look back at that year I wonder how I survived it. But you were there steady as a rock, always there. Most nights you’d walk me to my room you didn’t have much to say but you always listened to me go on and on and on about whatever was bothering me at the time and sometimes God knows what. And when i was ill you’d come sit with me all day just to keep me company.&lt;br /&gt;Now seven years down the line a lot of water has passed under the bridge. A lot of things have happened. We've hurt each other in ways that we couldn't possibly have imagined we could.The funny part is that You remember my hurting you but you don't seem to remember hurting me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So now again we're back to talking (at least that's what it seems like to me) and you send me text saying that you miss me. I breathe thanks 'cos it leaves me feeling warm. But deep down inside my stomach is all tied up in knots. I wonder if it's real this time or if it's all a game or worse pity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Whatever it is though, i just wonder if my heart can take it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now i know you're probably wondering who the above post is about. Its about someone special to me. I'll call him the name that launched a thousand letters. They say of Helen of troy (formerly of Sparta) as the face that launched a thousand ships ‘cos her beauty really did launch a thousand ships. I call him the name that launched a thousand letters ‘cos I must have written a thousand letters to him and about him. Some he got and some he didn't.&lt;br /&gt;My sms.ac id is actually a reflection of how I feel about him. When I opened an account, he left a comment on my page. Reading it made my heart smile and it also made me sad at the same time. Sad because in a sense I felt like I had blown something that had the potential of being wonderful. However, I didn’t know this at the time and I also had my issues, a lot of things I had to deal with. I’m a very independent person so it’s really hard for me to allow people help me deal with my issues I always believe that I can do it on my own until it’s almost too late for any one to help me out.&lt;br /&gt;Although I wasn’t the perfect "girl", at the time, deep down I wasn't so bad. I just needed to find me, and grow up. Sometimes when I look back at the last four years (my &lt;a href="http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/04/letters-to-my-younger-self-this-piece.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;storm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/a&gt;lasted four years) I wish things were different and wish I had done things differently but then I realize that the wealth of experience that I have garnered, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I just wish I could get one more chance with him, one final Dance with him. I'd play a song that would never ever end. How, I’d love love love to dance with "the name" again. Ohhhhhhh i'd really love that. But even if i didn't I’d still like to hug him, dance with him, kiss him in the rain,............................... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;so at least I’ll have those memories to hold in my heart and to keep me in the cold days ahead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just needed to blog about this stuff so that maybe i could get it off my chest.I hope I haven't bored you to tears. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114780282907576166?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114780282907576166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114780282907576166' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114780282907576166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114780282907576166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/05/can-my-heart-take-itthe-name-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114545713041028208</id><published>2006-04-19T14:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T15:32:10.656+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GOING HOME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The next time i post i'll be doing it from a cybercafe. Nope i haven't lost my job yet (Coprpers cannot be fired we're Government children) its just that tonight i leave for Lagos. I haven't been to Lagos since i left home six months ago. I was supposed to leave on saturday but i had to wait to collect my census money(before someone else does so). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now, i know i'm supposed to be happy and i am but i just can't seem to get rid of these knots in my stomach. I've been away from home far too long. I wonder what i'll find, i wonder what would have changed. Will i find that every thing has changed or will i find that somethings remain the same? I really don't like change and a part of me wishes that i could freeze time and find my home the same as i left it six months ago but i guess that's just wishful thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But a huge part of me is just so happy at the thought of seeing my sisters and my mum again. I have missed them so. I was telling my friend the other day how much i missed my brother . Considering the fact that i haven't spoken to him since i left and the fact that we &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/bu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 147px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" height="92" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/bu.jpg" width="167" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;do not get along well, i truly must miss home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So tonight i'll be going to Lagos courtsey Bestway Transport Limited my "flight" leaves at nine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It'll be Goodnite Kaduna and Good morning Lagos. See you in Lagos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114545713041028208?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114545713041028208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114545713041028208' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114545713041028208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114545713041028208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/04/going-home-next-time-i-post-ill-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114538687374742699</id><published>2006-04-18T14:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T21:31:07.840+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LETTERS TO MY YOUNGER SELF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This piece, writing a letter to my younger self is actually &lt;a href="http://pilgrimagetoself.blogspot.com/2006/04/letters-to-my-younger-self.html"&gt;Pilgrimage to self&lt;/a&gt;.'s idea. For about a week, i've been wondering what i would say if i was given the oportunity to write a letter to my younger self. As i thought about it, a time in my life came to me and i immediately knew what my letter would be about. Now my letter is not to a much younger me, its to the me of a few years ago&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Adunniola,&lt;br /&gt;Hi, I know that right now you’re waiting impatiently for your life to “take off” &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/0017-0402-1900-2414_SM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 99px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" height="166" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/0017-0402-1900-2414_SM.jpg" width="99" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;in fact you’re wondering when it will. You feel you’re ready to take the world by storm. Right now, you’re brimming with confidence everything seems to be working just the way you’ve planned it. You feel confident intelligent, wise, savvy, lucky and beautiful. You think everything will work out just the way you’ve always dreamed it. And you can’t understand why you aren’t blooming like everyone your age. However, you have to understand that as a bud tightly bound around a beautiful rose, it’s all for a season and all for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/Imgp9814.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/Imgp9814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" height="160" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/Imgp9814.jpg" width="140" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In your blissful state right now, you probably feel that nothing could possibly go wrong but the winds are getting fierce and a storm is coming you just don’t feel it Slowly but surely a storm is coming and that is the reason your bud has not blossomed. A great storm will come, it will lash out at you, howling and screeching in its great fury, it will bruise your stem, it will bring you to your very knees.&lt;br /&gt;In that time, you will feel ugly and stupid. You will question your faith and even your very existence. All around you will be bleak and dark and it will seem like the morning will never come. Now I hate to burst your bubble girl and I’m not writing all this to scare you. I’m writing it to guide you because in that time you’ll be too confused to think straight because all you’ll feel is your pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So first, you have to stop, see and listen. Stop your headlong rush to nowhere and consider your surroundings. Take in everything around you, see and listen to the people around you. In doing so, you might find some necessary provisions for the storm ahead and you might even find that the intensity of the storm coming lessened by what you will come to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul type="square"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tie up every loose end. Do what needs to be done &lt;strong&gt;NOW&lt;/strong&gt; not tomorrow. Don't leave things till the last minute. Procrastination truly is the thief of time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Don’t be afraid to be you. Remember first impressions matter but try not to create false impressions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Relationships are meant to be nutured. They are not games or contests between you and him. Cherish what you have and give "him" a chance. When he says "I care, that's when i'm quiet" he really means it. Don't be afraid to give your heart and please when you don't have the right words to say, &lt;strong&gt;keep quiet. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Don't be afraid to tell the truth to the people you care about. It'll hurt them more if you don't.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/Imgp0105.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" height="140" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/200/Imgp0105.0.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Don't give up something just because it's hard or you've failed because you just might succeed at your next try.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Put your roots deep in God's word. So that you'll be able to stand when the storm comes.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/34.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Finally remember, the tight rosebud in the midst of blooming roses does not hide an ugly flower rather, knowing that the storm will come, it hides and nutures a beautiful, delicate blossom taking its time to create a masterpiece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Your Older self&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Adunni&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114538687374742699?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114538687374742699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114538687374742699' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114538687374742699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114538687374742699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/04/letters-to-my-younger-self-this-piece.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114511990835063157</id><published>2006-04-15T12:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T17:51:48.376+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FROM BURUKU WITH LOVE (CENSUS 2006)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.............So this is how the census went&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FIRST CONTACT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We got into buruku on day 2 of the census at about 9 a.m.  We dropped our things at the Yula guest inn and immediately went in search of the coordinator (we were told that he was at a school which was distribution point for all materials for buruku). We met the coordinator and he immediately assigned us to our different S.A.s I got one S.A. comprising six E.A.s. he informed us that in our absence he had taken the liberty of assigning the different E.A.s to the enumerators and that they were already in the field. Therefore, we had to go to the field to try to locate our individual enumerators. Luckily, one of the enumerators assigned to me was at the school so he offered to show me round my S.A. so I could see the others and get to know them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Under the hot buruku sun (its hotter here) I went in search of my team. We walked and walked but we could not locate any of them. Therefore, we went back to the school, where I met the seriki of my S.A. waiting to see me so he could lodge his complaint with me. According to him most of the people in his domain had not been counted neither had their houses been numbered. He spoke through an interpreter but his anger was apparent.  I slowly began to realize the enormity of the job I had just started. It seemed that most if not all my enumerators could not read the maps correctly and had been doing what they wished. It took me the all day to find them, gather them together, go through the maps one by one, and reassign all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Those that had started enumeration had filled the forms so badly that I had to re-issue new forms . One of them threw a tantrum ( a  full fledged feet stamping one) at the prospect of  re -enumerating again. I had to psyche her and plead with her before she agreed to do it again. By the time I had waded through the fine mess they had made it was already evening I was hungry, dusty and tired. All I needed was a cold shower, a meal and a bed.  I went back to the guest inn and met another drama the supervisors were threatening to riot because the secretary to the district head had not arranged for our feeding and accommodation.  He finally showed up at about 7 p.m. full of apologies  he psyched us, paid us , arranged for the accommodation  and bought us suya.&lt;br /&gt;Then I was finally able to get my Shower, meal and bed (all in that order). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Day 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SUFABISOR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;How do you divide six E.A.s between five pairs of enumerators? That’s census math for u. I had 10 enumerators (later, I was given an additional 6) three males and seven females and they had to be assigned in pairs. I decided to give the last E.A. to whoever finished first(i didn't tell them though so they wouldn't rebel).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There's a serious shortage of materials. The coordinator has promised to try and get some . So we wait and wait under the sweltering sun.  We finally took refuge under a big tree in the school compound (the classrooms are locked).  I had to ration the little materials i had. My team kept coming back with all manners of complaints : sufabisor them no let us count them o , sufabisor them no want thumfrint, sufabisor the "porms" is "pinished" and on and on they went. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The heads of the individual e.a.s (they are called mai ungwar) were not left out, they all wanted a piece of the sufabisors : madam ba karatu gida ba karatu( they've not numberd our houses, and weve not been counted) , one even called me inbigilator(invigilator) all day long all we did was talk , pacify and talk some more for them to exercise a little patience.  I must have finished all the little hausa i understood. Thank God for interpreters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Later in the evening as we (supervisors) sat together in front of the guest house as we normally did, some truck drivers came up to us and asked to be enumerated as they didn't know when they would get home. They were from ibadan and it was refreshing talking to them. They made us laugh with the answers they gave. There and then i realised the difference between the average southerner and northerner. For example even though they were uneducated they knew how old they were , they knew their LGA and seemed aware of happenings around them unlike the average buruku man who didn't know his own age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Day 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The sun seems to be hotter today. I feel like im in a microwave . I enumerated the district head today. He is uneducated but i hear that he's a billionaire (he's into haulage and has a huge fleet of trucks). He  seems intelligent but he is  illiterate. His secretary swindles him because he(the secretary) is slightly educated. his billions do not reflect in buruku though. Buruku has only one school (the primary school holds in the mornings and the secondary school holds in the afternoon) , it has only two or three bore holes so most people drink well water or pure water which is brought from town.How sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Due to the terribly hot sun i asked the seriki of my E.A. for money so that i could get drinks for the members of my team and he gave me the grand sum of two hundred and thirty naira. All i could get was pure water and biscuits. I decided to do this everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 4&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, which was supposed to be the last day of the census, the coordinator assigned four more e.a.s and four new enumerators to me. Although we had heard rumors that the census might be extended I did not take kindly to the extra workload. I had enough problems already most of my team had not finished enumerating and there were no materials for them to work with. Any way I just had to since every one else had two some even three S.A.s .  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I met with the enumerators an old man, two married women (from same husband although only one showed up) and a young guy (probably a school cert holder). And I realized then that I had taken more than I could possibly manage . Of the two teams only the men knew what to do. The  woman that showed up could write well and didn’t know how to enumerate (I doubted if she could even read at the time) and the other woman simply did not show up. My God wahala. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I asked the old man how he had been coping and he told me that he normally stood outside while she would go inside ask the questions then come outside to tell him then he in turn would write them down then she would then go back and take their thumbprints. Due to this fact, they had only managed to cover one of their E.A.s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So I decided to join them to make it faster. We would go in together and she would act as an interpreter. We agreed to start the next day. I became the butt of other supervisors' jokes they even gave me a name (Sufabisor enumerator).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 5&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ENUMERATOR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I started enumerating the E.A. today and I have been shocked beyond words by what I’ve seen. Just when I think there can’t be any other situation worse than this I’m rudely hit with something much worse. At the first house we entered we met a woman who had given birth thirteen times and only had five boys to show for it.  She did not know how old her children were and none of them attended school. Their poverty is evident in their surroundings: mud walls threatening to collapse, dirt floors, and kids with swollen bellies, torn tattered clothing, it almost made me cry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;At the next household the situation was no better A young man probably eighteen or twenty at the most with a young wife  probably thirteen or fourteen (they both don’t know their ages so we had to guess) with two children a one year old girl and a two day old baby. Next household was a little better wife was a tailor, she knew how old she was and she could speak English but the husband was a farmer and so ba turenchi (no English) by household five I almost couldn’t control my emotions (anger, wonder, pity ) I had to sit and try to calm my self . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In household five I get the rudest shock of my life. Head of household had five sons; the five sons had one wife each. The wives’ looked like little girls who had been playing with mummy’s makeup. Four of them had one child each. They didn’t know how old they were  but  I guess their age range was between  fourteen and sixteen I was immune to that by now  we asked for the  wife of the fifth son and they said she was the amariya (New wife) it took a lot of begging by  my interpreter before we were allowed to see her . When they brought her out I was shell-shocked she couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve thirteen at best. She looked sickly and when I asked what was wrong they all burst out laughing. My interpreter explained to me that she was pregnant I was stunned. My eyes smarted and for a minute I thought I would loose it right there. Which kind of maniac would have sex with this child? I had to take a minute to compose myself before I could ask her any questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The subsequent households were  the same  as five  except for household fourteen where the head of the household had four wives and didn’t know how many children he had ( he had twenty- six, no birth control here) it took like three hours to enumerate his household .&lt;br /&gt;In household fifteen I met a woman had given birth fifteen times but only had three daughters to show for it. Her husband had married three other wives and it seemed to me like she was bitter about it. She looked fifty but she had a one-year-old daughter (she was the most beautiful child I had seen in all buruku). Even the squalor of her surroundings did nothing to tarnish her angelic beauty.  I ask her mother if she goes to school and she said no. I sat with her mother for a while and try to encourage her to send this beauty to school she grudgingly agrees (probably to get me off her back) and I sowed a brand new pencil into Miriam’s life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I walked back to the guesthouse, my mind is a riot of emotions and I feel so privileged to have been born in the south.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 6&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We quickly round up with the last E.A.  and just as I’m about to say thank God its over I get another terrible shock at the last two houses. For the first time in my whole life, I see a child that has kwashiorkor. It’s a terrible sight. His mother’s mother was taking care of him. We asked her if he has been taken to the hospital but she says babu (no). What have you been giving him then? We asked and she answered mastina (maltina) and alheri (Ugwu).&lt;br /&gt;Once again I leave the household with my mouth hanging open and my mind reeling.&lt;br /&gt;As we made our way back we (he two enumerators and I), got talking the lady told me that poverty , ignorance and a terrible culture was the reason for all these things.  So I asked why the district head doesn’t do something about it and she replies “the man is not educated so how can he know the benefits of education”   I didn’t have any answer to that one.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Corrections, Corrections, and more Corrections&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All E.A.s have been covered (most of it anyway) and most of the enumerators have started submitting their documents. The mistakes are enormous; one enumerator (not mine) actually forgot to take thumbprints. When his supervisor brought it to his attention he went Ina zu wa (ill be back) and came back two minutes later this time the form  had eight thumbprints (the household had four members) by now the supervisor was yelling and he went back and bingo the members household had increased to eight. He had apparently put his thumbprints in all the spaces and created fictitious names when he realized his mistake. All day I corrected and re corrected only to have them go back and make the same mistake over again.One of my enumerators said to me "madam walahi talahi this work i bery hard she is not easy, the feffle they are not cofrate"and when i laughed at him he said " madam the hausa man is not know how to dippretiate between fee(p),eph(F) and b(v)"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;By evening the summary forms looked like rough and dirty.In the end I just collected the forms and hoped for the best. Then I began the extra wahala of signing the forms, while making corrections. I had asked them to write my name , number and initials on the forms to make my job easier but i didn't sleep until it was almost dawn. I must have signed over a thousand forms because I had ten e.a.s my bottom was numb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 8&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE ECLIPSE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I woke up late cos i didn't get any sleep until dawn. I arranged the forms according to e.a.s and just as i finshed i  heard shouts from outside. We all went out and saw that the sun was slowly loosing its brillance. Then it hit me it was the eclipse!!! i ran inside and grabbed my phone and took some pictures of it as it happened. The people were pointing at the sun and someone said that the school had closed. Though most of the people didn't know what was happening they didn't really panic they just exclaimed allahu akbar (God is great). Someone adviced us to look at it in a bowl of water and it was a magnificient sight. Buruku experienced a near  total eclipse (it looked like it was late in the evening ) and im so happy that i experienced it . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In like fifteen minutes it was over and the sun returned to its usual brilliance. I Finally submitted the forms to the coordinator , packed my bags and we left buruku. On the way back even though i was fagged i  felt happy. I had experienced the eclipse, i had served my fatherland, and i had had the chance to see how the other half lived. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114511990835063157?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114511990835063157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114511990835063157' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114511990835063157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114511990835063157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/04/from-buruku-with-love-census-2006_15.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114425255973536962</id><published>2006-04-05T15:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T21:39:44.580+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;WHEN WILL IT GET BETTER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this piece on my first night in Buruku town. Hope its not coming too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I’m writing this piece from Yula Guest Inn Buruku, off Lagos road Chikun LGA Kaduna State. Buruku is a hamlet about 30 mins away from Kaduna town itself. Actually it’s a run down place that’s used mostly by prostitutes and their customers (mostly overnight truckers). Now before you go “Buruku??????????????????”  I haven’t been banished to the village by NYSC. And in case you were wondering, the answer is one word CENSUS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, that’s right, the 2006 population and housing census . I’m here as a supervisor. I had the fortune or is it misfortune of being posted here for the exercise. So while my mates got the luxury of staying in Kaduna town I’m here in this hamlet called Buruku.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t initially picked to participate in the census only about 500 out of1617 corpers were picked in  the whole of kaduna State. Initially I was sad (I’d been seriously considering the extra money to be made) but after a while I got over it and like every one else made plans for myself concerning the holidays. I was going to finish my VB.net e-book, rent a couple of movies and generally have a nice time. It was going to be a long lovely weekend for me (Kaduna state towed the FG’s line and only declared Friday and Saturday as stay at home days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We were only recruited (albeit by force) after the NPC found out that  most of the supervisors supposedly recruited for the exercise (with the exception of the corpers ) were stark illiterates the remainder were semi illiterates while some people were non existent. Apparently the NPC officials had fixed the names of their relatives, friends and in some cases totally fictitious names so that they could line their pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After these things had been uncovered and coupled with the FG’s directive that all supervisors should be Corpers and external supervisors only, the NPC enlisted the help of the NYSC in getting as many corps member as possible to participate in the census and act as supervisors.&lt;br /&gt;Trust the NYSC they used brute force to get us to participate. Not that we really would have minded but threatening us with extension of service was going a little too far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I for example got the news from a friend. She called me on a Wednesday five days after the training started. The conversation went something like ………&lt;br /&gt;Adunni: Hello&lt;br /&gt;Concerned friend: Yetunde!!!!! Come to LEA primary school Maiduguri road right now.&lt;br /&gt;Adunni: Kilode , Ki lo n sele , Se ko si ( what’s wrong, what’s happening, Hope all is well)&lt;br /&gt;CF: o wa o (There's something happening) they say we must participate in this census o !!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Adunni: ehhhhh who?&lt;br /&gt;CF: NYSC, they say that if we don’t participate we might get extension of service&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I panicked. Yeepa Who wants an extension? So I asked ………….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adunni: Okay how do I get there?&lt;br /&gt;CF: Take a bike and come down now now&lt;br /&gt;CF: Come now wo business center ni mo tin pe e (I’m calling from a business center)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped on a bike, got there and was immediately given a letter of release to give my employer. I also made panic calls to other friends of mine who hadn’t heard the news. When we found out that it wasn’t true that missing the exercise would get us an extension, a lot of people including myself were very pissed. We would have jumped at the opportunity (to make extra money) with open arms but threatening us with extension of service was a little too much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anyway that was how I got recruited talk about fire engine approach.  We were hurriedly trained (2 days as opposed to six or seven days), and posted to various LGAs. I got posted to Chikun  LGA and from there I was posted to buruku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole ordeal got me thinking; when will Nigeria learn to do things the right way? When will greed and self interest stop being our motive for doing things? When will Nigeria be able to organize something and everything or at least most of it go smoothly? When ……..&lt;br /&gt;The stuff we went through during the training, the stuff we heard, will shock even the most hardened person. The people qualified for the jobs were not picked, those who managed to be picked attended the training and at the end of it they were told that someone else had collected their id cards and hence their training allowance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people who saw their names on the list attended the training only to find out at the end that a new list of personnel was brought and their names were not on it. On this new list some names appeared as much as four five times. Some people, after going through the hell of collecting id cards and payment clearances found out at the point of payment that someone else had collected their training allowances and signed.  Stuff like this just makes me sad and makes me wonder if this country will ever get any better.&lt;br /&gt;With all the so called reforms and all the alleged good stuff that’s been sold to the world by the government, its little things like this that makes one realize just how bad and just how corrupt Nigeria is.&lt;br /&gt;And the people do not help matters at all. We turn on ourselves and start fighting ourselves instead of the people in charge. For example reports from different training locations in Kaduna told of how corpers were threatened by people. Our crime? They were dropped for us. This coming from these uneducated and in most cases stark illiterates was almost too much to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When O!!!!!! when will Nigeria get better? .........................&lt;br /&gt;                                                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways I’m here in Buruku and I’m wondering how this whole exercise will turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ill keep you posted&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114425255973536962?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114425255973536962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114425255973536962' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114425255973536962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114425255973536962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/04/when-will-it-get-better-i-wrote-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114407156625882023</id><published>2006-04-03T13:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T18:18:56.610+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;INTIMIDATED? YES ; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AWED? CERTAINLY.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I FEEL REBORN &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It’s been weeks since my first piece &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/02/drawing-first-blood-keeping-journal.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Drawing First Blood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;. I admit to writing that piece with the enthusiasm of a child learning a new game. After that first piece I gradually got into blogoshere (.....mostly by clicking on every link I could find). First of I realized that there were soooooooo many Nigerian bloggers and secondly they were GOOD. At some point I came to the conclusion that once again I had started something without really checking it out. I just saw some two blogs and went hey I can do that and bingo my blog was born.&lt;br /&gt;Now after bragging about it to all and sundry I found out that blogging is actually more serious than I thought. The result? Instant writers block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I wrote a piece about the Avian flu (me being in Kaduna where the whole show started in Nigeria and all) but I couldn’t bring myself to upload it so I let it go.For a long while I couldn’t even bring myself to write a single line . I contented myself with reading blogs instead especially blogs by Nigerians both men and women but I loved the women more than I loved the men ( I only liked three). They were charming, witty, original, thought provoking, inspiring, crazy and downright funny. Slowly i began to find inspiration from reading their blogs. They all made me realize that I wasn’t crazy and that there were actually people in the world who shared some of my views on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pilgrimagetoself.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Pilgrimagetoself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt; in describing her blog says “Making a different choice gives you the opportunity to live a different life” She couldn’t have said it better. That phrase sums up what my life has been and still is.&lt;br /&gt;So finally I find that I’m able to put pen to paper again, having been inspired by all the lovely Nigerian ladies in the blogoshere.&lt;br /&gt;And what then should my first blog be about? Yes, you guessed right it’s about defining and confronting my fears.&lt;br /&gt;From now on its........................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/1600/splash.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px" height="138" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7320/2276/320/splash.jpg" width="266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel reborn.................................. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114407156625882023?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114407156625882023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114407156625882023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114407156625882023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114407156625882023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/04/intimidated-yes-awed-certainly.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114129778703108922</id><published>2006-03-02T12:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T18:06:00.663+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/52/9509/1024/P2210083.0.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #FFFFFF; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/52/9509/400/P2210083.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to a "seminar" under the trees&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114129778703108922?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114129778703108922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114129778703108922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114129778703108922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114129778703108922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/03/listening-to-seminar-under-trees.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114062593784747018</id><published>2006-02-22T17:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T18:10:54.370+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;REMINISCING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;How time flies. It's hard to believe it's been five months already since I first stepped into Kaduna state and the NYSC.&lt;br /&gt;I visited the NYSC orientation camp today. My boss asked me if I would like to go and I jumped at the offer. I'd wanted to go for a very long time (I haven't been there since my last day of orientation last year). On our way there I was assailed by different emotions, nostalgia (at going back), wonder (especially when we passed through the endurance trek route)........................&lt;br /&gt;Going back, seeing the old place filled with the familiar sea of white (corpers are expected to wear white t - shirts and white shorts) just got me reminiscing about my time there, going to the mammy market seeing the same old faces and some new ones (I actually found out that I was recognized by some traders at the mammy market, too much patronage I guess) and seeing the bungalow I stayed in during orientation (I had a wonderful time in that bungalow and made some great friends too) brought back memories of my orientation camp experience. I was filled with wonder and I kept asking myself &lt;strong&gt;How on earth did you survive those 21 days?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;The soldiers, the morning exercises, the jogging (kilometers and kilometers), the inadequate and equally tasteless meals, the stupid guys (who thought camp was some sort of orgy) the commandant, Nysc officials, registration, endurance trek ..........................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;How did I survive it? I don't know, but I survived it with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;Let me take you back a little&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DATELINE: September 5th 2005&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE CALL UP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;The first stanza of the NYSC anthem reads "youths obey the clarion call" and so the journey to nysc begins with the nysc call up letters ( at this time you're expected to have graduated from the university or polytechnic hons or not). It involves collecting the call up letter from "school"and finding out which state one has been posted to.&lt;br /&gt;This is a grueling task as the said letters don't reach the schools on time. By the time they finally do arrive, a combination of inadequate staff and the sheer number of people trying to collect the letters turn it into a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;For me it was made more nightmarish by my wanting to be posted to Lagos State (I had supposedly "legged" it but one couldn't be too sure about these things. I couldn't have been more right).&lt;br /&gt;I got into the school at about 8 a.m (you have to be early to beat the crowds) so that I could start the wahala on time. We had to fill out countless forms, make so many photocopies it was like doing first year registration all over again. To crown it all I realized at the last minute that I would need a new passport for the new school id (trust unilorin to come up with something like that at the last minute), I was faced with a dilemma: go take a new passport and wait till tomorrow for the letter or................................ emi ke, i simply removed the passport on my bank passbook and used it (necessity they say is the mother of invention).&lt;br /&gt;After all the stress, standing in the hot sun for hours in the very long queue and the anxiety from not knowing where I would be posted to, it was my turn with my heart in my throat, knees shaking, whispering every prayer I could remember (I wanted Lagos) I searched through the long list found my name, saw KD next to my name and burst into tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;September 5th 2005&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE JOURNEY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Once I had collected my letter ( and gotten over the shock ) , i rushed back home to prepare for it . Well meaning friends who had served before me came and gave me advice on what to expect in the orientation camp, what to buy what not to buy (NYSC gives you a list of stuff to bring .. boarding school style) I have to say that the best advice I got was from my friend "y" she came to my place and really put me through the "paces" in fact she gave me a list of do's and don'ts they include;&lt;br /&gt;1. Don't take anything youre not prepared to loose ( there are more thieves in camp than in the whole of kirikiri)&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't overexert yourself&lt;br /&gt;3. Don't do oversabi&lt;br /&gt;4. Don't take too many pictures (I didn't take this one though)&lt;br /&gt;5. Make 20 copies of each credential you have (it'll cost more in camp)&lt;br /&gt;6. Have enough passports&lt;br /&gt;7. Do buy a waist pouch (it'll be your mobile bank)&lt;br /&gt;8.Keep it (waist pouch) with you at all times even in the bathroom&lt;br /&gt;9.Don't participate in activities in the hope that it'll influence your primary assignment posting (you'll probably be posted to a village) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;10.Take only the essentials and travel light&lt;br /&gt;11.Take a pair of white shorts and some white T - shirts ( the ones issued by the nysc will most definitely be small)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;And much more&lt;br /&gt;After the marathon shopping, seemed that the whole of tejuosho knew that nysc camp was opening that week cos the price of white t - shirts shorts went up to almost double the price(trust Nigerians), the packing, photocopying and what nots it was finally time to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I'd been told that the only place i could get a bus going to the north was oyingbo so i'd bought my ticket in advance. I got to the park at about 6.30 p.m. all flustered and out of breath from rushing down thinking i would miss the bus ( when i bought the ticket i'd been told that the bus left at 6p.m. ) but alas the bus was still there and it was only half full (it didn't leave oyingbo until about 9 p.m. ) . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;At probabbly 8 .15 p.m. the people in charge of the bus asked all passengers to alight from the bus for "final checking" we all did and each person was subjected to a thorough search from head to toe. The guys were patted down and we females had our bags searched with a scanner like device . Incredibly no one seemed to mind as i suppose it was for our own safety. After that we got in the bus and the bus finally pulled out of the park. As is customary with "marcopolo" buses there were "in flight announcements" ; switch off your phones , dont stand up and all that stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;After the announcements the resident "pastor"(each bus has one) started a service of sorts ( Ibos are the most religious people in Nigeria ) everyone joined in and we sang and prayed and even had offering time. I took part in it but at some point during his message the stress and sleeplessness of the past few days finally took its toll on me and i fell asleep. I didn't wake up until the bus stoped briefly in Abuja. I was so tired. i'd initially told the bus driver that i was going to the nysc orientation camp and he assured me that he would drop me off there, but little did i know that the man didn't know the place because he dropped me off about 18km after the camp (it's on the road down from Abuja) . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I alighted from the bus with my box not quite sure which way to go.I must have looked very lost 'cos an okada man came up to me and asked me where i was going to. I told him and he told me that i was miles from the place but he that he could take me there . I hopped on and he took off . On the way we struck up a conversation and he told me that he used to live in Lagos and that he could speak yoruba well blah blah ......... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;We went on and on and on until i began to suspect that he either didnt have any idea where the camp was or he was kidnapping me. On and on we went until we finally got to a settlement on the road and after a few meters, i saw the sign for the camp. I got off and asked my "friend " how much my fare was and he informed me that it was five hundred naira What!!? i screamed and he went "sorry madam this flace i very phar" in his crazy hausa English. I knew that, but as a proper omo "eko" i had to haggle and we finally agreed to two hundred and fifty naira. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I paid him picked my box and walked towards the gate. It was littered with so many banners different companies, churches, fellowships all welcoming the batch B corps "men"(In the orientation camp there are no females, only gentlemen corps members) to the black gold orientation camp kaduna. I breathed a sign of relief and walked in. I had finally made it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114062593784747018?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114062593784747018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114062593784747018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114062593784747018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114062593784747018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/02/reminiscinghow-time-flies.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22393787.post-114009495219101783</id><published>2006-02-16T13:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T18:31:58.200+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Drawing first blood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;Keeping a journal has always been a fantasy of mine. I say fantasy beacause i've only kept a journal once in the second semester of my first year in university. The other times i've been too engrossed in life to remember to keep one. There's always been something to do, something to finish, exams to write, endles things. This blog is my first real effort toward fufilling my fantasy of keeping a journal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure how this blog thing will work out......... hey i'm not even sure it will work out at all. But i sure will try. Right now im currently a youth corps member doing "time" in Kaduna state so a lot on this blog will reflect that. It'll be a collection of my experience so far, an honest critique of the program the good, the bad and of course the ugly.I'll try not to bore you with only NYSC stuff as i also intend for this blog to be a personal space where i can unburden my thots, vent my angers and frustrations while exploring my writing fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a duel someone always draws first blood, so this is me welcoming you to my space and of course drawing the proverbial first blood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22393787-114009495219101783?l=adunniola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/feeds/114009495219101783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22393787&amp;postID=114009495219101783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114009495219101783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22393787/posts/default/114009495219101783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adunniola.blogspot.com/2006/02/drawing-first-blood-keeping-journal.html' title=''/><author><name>Adunni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13283971228181922752</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yQ3RM1VtVYk/TEXCK6brjFI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7wDdinEOEuM/S220/Butterfly.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
