Six Sure-Fire Ways to Be Happy

Everyone wants to be happy! Everyone! However, it gets increasingly difficult to be happy, there is bad news assaulting you left, right, and centre; and situations and people around you bring unnecessary drama that make you wish you were still asleep and oblivious.

As I've grown older (I'm no spring chicken - I like to imagine that my grey hair game is coming on strong, I can't walk or run as fast as I used to, I have need of a walking stick now and then... I have to say though, in the spirit of full disclosure, that the walking stick is largely used as a prop to entertain the young urns), I've become more aware of the need to maintain my happiness, to not let external situations unnecessarily influence my joy, or, at the very least, my happiness. The steps I have taken to maintain my happiness have worked so many times that I think you'll benefit from it.

Here goes:

1. Remember Your Favourite Things: Maria was definitely on to something when she sang about remembering her favourite things. Whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and schnitzel (I don't even know what this is*) with noodles are things that I am sceptical will soothe the pain of dog bites and bee stings, and chase the blues away (sorry Maria); but give me great sermons, music and TV Shows and my grin threatens to disfigure my face.

2. Cut Off Negative People: That 'friend' whose calls get you down in the dumps everytime because he or she is putting you down; that one who wants to bring unnecessary drama into your life, just because they think they are irreplaceable. I don't care who they are, cut them off. It might seem harsh, but it is necessary, believe me. You don't have to be friends with everybody. If they are necessary evils that you absolutely have to be around, limit your contact with them. There is such a thing as burning bridges that have become a roadblock for you. If they are bringing unwanted tension and drama, do the right thing - say goodbye for your happiness.

3. Don't Worry about Others' Opinions: Admittedly, this is difficult. We seem to be programmed to care about what people think about us - how we look, our careers, the decisions we make. But, you will need to practise not caring, because no matter what you do, everyone will have an opinion - good or bad. In other words, you cannot silence opinions by trying to conform to them. One of those guilty-pleasure expressions that I like is the one that opinions are like assholes, everyone has one (Dad, that word means holes that donkeys possess... or something like that). I am at a point in my life where only very few people's opinions matter to me, and you should too if you want to be happy.

4. Get out!: Literally! Don't sit at home moping around. Get some  fresh air, stroll around your neighbourhood, get a hobby, visit friends, or just jump into the back of a random truck like this guy (just make sure you've packed your bag - and some money - if said truck is headed out of town).

5. Never Compare Yourself to Others: Have (selective) tunnel vision when it comes to achieving your dreams and living your life. The greatest mistake and the easiest route to head-splitting headaches is comparing your life to others. It's like Barney, from Barney and Friends, says, 'you're important... you're the only one like you... oh, you are special...!"

6. Speak to Someone: That's right! Let it out. When you're going through something, don't bottle it up inside until you break down or transfer your aggression to the greying, walking-stick-using slow-walker and runner (coincidentally called Elizabeth) who's just trying to find a random truck bed to land on.  When you're down in the dumps, call a friend, call family, talk a passer-by's ears off (try not to get arrested on this one),  speak to God in prayers.

*Shnitzel, Google tells me, is a thin slice of veal or any other light meat that is fried after being coated in breadcrumbs (I doubt that I would eat this with noodles; so, still not going to make the list of my favourite things).

Catfished

So, I have been so fascinated by Catfish:The TV Show of late; so much so that I have watched all  seasons of the show about twice now. This short story is born out of that fascination. Enjoy:

I had always imagined our first meeting would be like an episode on Catfish: The TV Show, only Max and Nev weren't there with their camera crew ready to detail every moment of this meeting of virtual strangers who had supposedly fallen in love over the internet.

And so it was that he and I stood awkwardly assessing each other. I wish Nev were here, he might start with the introductions, maybe tease out our feelings at that moment. Wait... it depended on who the camera crew originally came with though, didn't it? Was I the catfisher or the catfishee? It was true I had gone overboard with preening myself before every video call... maybe even.... I sighed and tried to focus. None of us had said a word. His face was expressionless. 'What are you thinking?' I screamed internally. Still, neither of us spoke. We just stood there... just stood there.

Then he spoke and extended his hand as well, "Nice to meet you". His voice sounded cold, distant. At that moment, I felt what he felt. Disappointment. Even anger.

I took his hand. They were as cold as his voice. I wish my hands weren't so limp. I sniffed back the tears and managed a a shaky smile. I didn't trust myself to speak.

"So, I guess we go inside now..." he sounded unsure, like he wanted to just go back home straight away and weep his eyes out.

I wondered what it was that he didn't like about me. Was I too short, too ugly, too imperfect? Too insecure? Meanwhile, there he was, this tall, handsome hunk who could sent hearts flying to the skies, just by borrowing wings from
the fluttering of his eyelashes.

"I guess..." I said after what seemed like an eternity.

It was over. All our plans for the summer, for the rest of our lives together.

The Orphan (Short Story)

So, I wrote this story a while ago, but I thought it would be a good read for some people out there (hopefully :)). Believe it or not, it's based on a true event that I witnessed first-hand. Here goes:

“Are you really an orphan?” Mr. Gaskiya asked again with a raised brow. The tone of voice he chose to use was one that got many youngsters confessing even sins they had not committed. He knew what effect his voice had, and he was sure it would work in this situation.

“Yes, I am,” the Orphan declared adamantly, sweating profusely now.

Mr. Gaskiya regarded the Orphan in surprise, looked at the paper in front of him, and shook his head sadly; but he asked the Orphan no further question. He only wrote down some things in his notepad and asked the boy to go without raising his head.

“But… but, but what… the scholarship? What about the… the scholarship?”  The Orphan asked with big, frightened eyes. Snakes of sweat rolled past his cheeks simultaneously, even though the room was air-conditioned cold.

“We’ll see…” Mr. Gaskiya muttered, and seeing that the Orphan wanted something specific to tell those who sent him, he added in his most official voice, “If you are shortlisted, you will be contacted shortly, we have all your details. Have a good day, son.”

The Orphan seemed to be satisfied with this answer, at least it was an answer, though he knew the scholarship ought to be awarded or not on the spot; he managed a shaky twist of his lips, brushed his hand across his well-moistened face and scuttled out.

When the Orphan got home three hours after leaving the scholarship venue, he met another set of interrogators outside his house.

“What took you so long?” The female one asked sharply, as soon as he turned the corner. She was naturally a nervous and overbearing woman. She had been shifting uneasily about in the room since the Orphan left for his interview. She had eventually dragged her male counterpart out to sit in the veranda, awaiting news.

The Orphan did not want to answer the question. He could not tell them he had been roaming the streets, wondering if they would be satisfied with his answer. Somehow he knew they would not be satisfied with his answer. They had heard when the radio man had announced that those who qualified for the scholarships would be told on the spot. They had heard it more than twice in that month; and both times, both of them had smiled at each other then, and looked at him with unconcealed hope in their eyes. He was somewhat relieved that it was over. They had been goading him about the interview since it had first been announced on the radio.

He was saved from answering this question by the male counterpart’s “So what’s the news?” The way he said it with a toothpick sticking out his mouth, even though the boy knew it was only garri and groundnuts he had eaten, revealed that he was only waiting for good news.

“He said he would contact me,” the Orphan blurted.

“What!” the woman exclaimed and jumped from her seat; the Orphan sprang backwards and covered his face.

“It’s not my fault. It was Mr. Gaskiya…”

“Stupid boy, didn’t I tell you to avoid those you knew? There were a hundred other interviewers.” She began to pace, immediately muttering to herself loud enough to make the Orphan hear something about stupid boys.

“There were only five interviewers, and they just directed us to enter the rooms. We did not see the people inside,” the Orphan replied, now fifteen steps away from the female’s hand.

“That means no school for you then...” the man who had all the while kept calm said, stretched noisily, spat the toothpick out of his mouth and stood up to go back inside.

Mr. Gaskiya emerged from the corner.

“Just wait there a second, Mr. Sunkan,” he screamed, a mixture of indignation and surprise showing on his face. He seemed to have been running. He was panting.

The woman faced him defiantly. The man turned back with an expressionless face. The Orphan looked like he was about to run.

“What do you mean by what you did this morning? How dare you send your own son to interview for a scholarship meant for orphans?”

Finally on Twitter

My display picture on twitter... don't ask

So, this is not a conventional post.

Just wanted to say I am now on twitter, for better or worse. So, follow me.

My twitter handle is @ElizabethAdeolu (https://twitter.com/ElizabethAdeolu).

Looking forward to twittering or twattering, or whatever kids these days call it :)