Life and I

Dear Me, You need to know this.

January 2, 2019.
Dear Me,
I just received a talk down, or rather a talk show from my family who can't seem to understand me.
They can't understand why anyone's child would not want to celebrate New year or any other occasion with them.

The talk show consisted of the high pitched tone of my mother's voice, the not so deep voice that had a way of sounding low as soon as he gets to the end of whatever speech he is making, and the forever screaming voices of my elder sister and brother, all geared up with pure anger. It was a funny talk show, only that I couldn't laugh, as the atmosphere was pretty serious. One took up the talk as soon as the other finished, as though no one wanted the good opportunity to shout at me to end.

Of course, there was the usual addition of deeds that I've done and didn't relate with the issue on (their) ground. Typical African family setting. Kudos to my siblings for adding extra spices to the hot sauce of problem.
I will remember to thank them.

The thing is, they so much annoy me, this family God has sent me to as a reward for my parents' (bleeeh) bed affairs.
And in the humans world, we cannot make the decision to just un-family our families.
I would not want to depress my day's allocated sheets with my family's tales, but I would explain why I walked out of the house yesterday morning.

Imagine this scenario;
Year by year, like an obligated cycle that goes on and on without an end in sight, my father invites the extended family to celebrate every occasion with us, and the rest of the family would accept this repetition as though it were a gift.
I was thinking to myself last year that this is nothing but labour, and no one is obligated to labour if they don't want to.

What nerves me about this extended family celebration of a thing is the efforts put in throughout the day. Cooking, serving, washing, cleaning, noises, confusion, and many beautiful examples more (Note my sarcasm dear Me) all day long!

I told the rest of the family who seemed to like the stress, that it would be better to change our ways of celebration yearly or something.
Having refused, I made up my mind to leave their house for them yesterday. I informed my father before and while leaving, but he in his I-said-what-i-said tone told me not to dare. And to join the women in the backyard.

They say it is feminism that has taken over my senses. Feminism? It is common sense to think a thing through and decide to or not to do a thing.
I am laughing now dear.

As long as I am not obligated to, and do not desire to, I will not.

Oh. The person yelling her head off, with my name, must be my mother.
Before they use me to prepare pepper soup, let me go see what chore she wants to give me. I'm sure it is an out of the blues chore resulting from her anger and annoyance.
Sighs.

January 3, 2019.
Dear Me,
My entry today ought to be one of lamentations about yesterday, but will it be? No.
After I kept you yesterday and answered my mother, I heard more talk shows.

That aside, my newly found tailor brought my new attire for the first Sunday of this year earlier today, and believe me, it's gorgeous! I'm currently looking at it, hanging on the wall opposite my bed which I'm currently lying on.

It is a purple lace sewn as a gown that amazingly curves with my curves. The sleeve is long and fitted with a small flare made out of purple satin starting mid wrist and stopping inches away from my wrist, While the back of the gown has a big, pretty bow balanced on the lace. The back also has a slit.
I have found a correct tailor. I have found gold. If you, dear Me, were manufactured in another country, let me be the first to tell you how it is with Nigerian tailors. Many are called, but few are chosen!

I've been disappointed and heartbroken by Nigerian tailors, and the resultant of my high expectations are always, the opposite. I'm cringing at the thought of some of my disappointments. Hurray! This is gold!
And yes, this designer is expensive.
Anyhow, she's mine for life.

You know, it's 10pm right now and I'm sleepy.

Goodnight.
Sweet dreams of what will be written in coming days.
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