Finally Facebook becomes the real internet, by descending the the rather base level of vaguely improper propositions from foreigners I have never met:
hey whats up. saw ur profile on face book. How are you doing, would like to get to know you. ahh well. I am a nigerian in Ghana. studying maths science. Ahh well, am just in for friendship though, not into anything more, cos am sure u are backing like 3 kids already. just teasing. well abit about myself. I can be very silly attimes, but i know when u draw the line, but u know the line is very thing. But honestly… want to be someone u would call on, when u have a problem. not saying am one problem solver, but if am sure can make you have more problems that u forget the one u first had. hahaha. well let me hear from you aiight. and lets see whats up. have a blessed day….
People keep blessing me lately, especially over the phone at work. Clearly I have the intonation of a godless wandering soul. Well, good, quite frankly.
In other news, I think I might finally be developing a healthy addiction – swimming. I joined the gym like a good girl, and despite my previous reluctance I actually sort of love it. There’s something comforting about an induction where your instructor prefers the word ‘arse’ to any stupid muscle names, I find.
It’s hard, and occasionally painfully so. My workout programme has variety and it’s actually fun. But never mind all the pressing and jogging nonsense, the real epiphany is all about the pool.
I haven’t been swimming properly in years, barring the odd paddle in a rooftop pool (ouch, that makes me miss travelling!). My learning experience was the clichéd one of being chucked in with armbands and flailing until I got it right. Not that I really remember the moment itself, but you know how family lore is.
Following that was the Catholic/Protestant rivalry of my childhood, largely unobserved by me. To prevent us going to Mass, Grandad offered to take us to swimming club on Sunday mornings. Given the choice, what do you think two squalling brats opted for every time? Although the post-exercise fry-ups probably didn’t help my unhealthy relationship with food.
In the interim, a few nasty experiences with cramp and one near drowning put me off entirely. I stopped going, I lost my confidence, and on the few occasions I was dragged I refused to venture beyond shoulder depth.
I can’t describe how wonderful it felt on Thursday to splash around in 14ft of water having forced myself to do what I truly was scared of. In a state of quiet euphoria I was doing lengths instead of paddling aimlessly. It turns out that I can do breaststroke *insert immature snigger here* after years of sticking solely to crawl and backstroke. Don’t get me wrong, I was knackered and my shoulderblades were planning a mutiny, but it was so incredibly worth it. I fully recommend, nay command, any of you feeling sluggish and not fit enough to get yourself to a pool. If you can’t swim, learn! It’s awesome, enough that I’m getting up at 6:30am tomorrow to fit in 40 mins of chlorinated fun before work. This is so unlike me, which can only be a positive thing…