Crush

I've always like to write. Before I started this blog I used to write short stories and before that I used (and sometimes still do) write poems. I have a book where I keep a lot of the poems that I've written in the past. I think that twitter is mostly to blame for my lack of writing sometimes. I thought that I would flip through my book, randomly stop on a page and share one with you.

Give me strength to speak my mind

What I have felt for so long

Yes...the rumors are true

I have a crush on you

From the day we met, from your first words

I have struggled against my heart

No longer can I deny what I feel

Now I want to make my dreams become real

I have watched you from afar

Gazing upon thee with loving eye

I wish to have thee in my arms to hold

To keep you warm from the cold

Heaven on Earth...An impossible dream

But a wish I do share

Give me your heart...give me the key

I promise to make it warm, safe and happy

**I might periodically post some stuff from my book.**

***Amended to add: If you go through my blog, the first 4 blog posts are poems as well.***

Spring Forward

With temperatures in the mid 70's and no rain in sight it looks like spring has officially hit Nashville (although I couldn't tell by looking out my window right now). I'm glad that the weather is finally starting to break. Spring is a good time of year. It seems like a chance to start over break ups are at an all time high and get a fresh outlook on the rest of the year. Here are some of the things I like about spring:

Longer hours of daylight. Its seems like I have more time to get more things done even though there are technically the same amount of hours in the day.

Spring cleaning. I'm a neat freak. I don't like junk or clutter, so I use the change in seasons to clean my house from top to bottom.

Sundresses, flipflops and sandals. I love when women break them out and show some skin.

Wearing white. I like the look of white sneakers. White sneakers just don't look as fresh when its cold out. I'm just waiting to break these back out:

Brevity. Spring doesn't stick around as long as summer and winter so it doesn't give you a chance to get tired of it.

One thing I promise makes me hate is spring is allergies. Pollen is my worst enemy. Ironically I never had allergy problems until I moved to Tennessee. Growing up I felt sorry for my mother when she had bad allergy attacks. Now I deal with the same thing. Needless to say my best friend for the next couple of weeks will be:

What do love about spring time? What do you hate?

Yes I'm a sucker for...

dimples.

Random dimples

A dimple is any sort of indentation. Most dimples are actually caused by a birth defect. The most common cause of dimples is a shortened muscle, which explains why dimples are not always apparent at rest, since muscles are typically in their shortened state at rest. In the face, shorter face muscles pull at the skin, especially when someone smiles, creating a classic dimple.

Despite the fact that dimples are defects, I love the way they look. Besides nice, full lips dimples are the only other facial feature that I believe can really bring out a smile on a woman. I often think that women with dimples shouldn't be allowed to frown. They should just walk around happy all the time (or at least look like they're happy). There are a couple of women I know that I would love to stick my tongue in their dimples. There is this one woman in particular (yes you).

Since I'm a science guy I had to look up some genetic facts on dimples.

The genetic of dimples is actually rather interesting. Dimples are a dominant, which means that it only takes one gene to inherit dimples. If neither of your parents has dimples, you shouldn't have them either, unless you experience a spontaneous mutation. If one of your parents has dimples, you have a 25-50% chance of inheriting the gene, since it means that parent inherited the gene from one or both parents. If both of your parents have dimples, you have a 50-100% chance of inheriting the gene, depending on how they inherited their dimple genes.

One celebrity who's dimples I am really attracted to is Lauren London.

I used to love her. Not anymore.

We all know why.

Rain boots

This weekend I was home and I had a great time despite the fact that it rained the ENTIRE weekend. The rain wasn't enough to spoil the fact that I was home with family and friends. The one thing that I noticed with the torrential downpours was women brought out their rain boots. I never noticed how much I liked this look on a woman before this past weekend. Its simple yet sexy to me. I think its the fact that that I like a woman to look cute and comfortable over titillating and uncomfortable.

While I'm on the subject of articles of clothing women put on in the rain. I love seeing a woman in a trench coat to go with those rain boots. Perfect combination in my book and would definitely get a second look from me.

Fellas, how do you feel about rain boots? Do women look stupid when they wear rain boots when its not wet outside? Am I way off base?

My name tells a story. What story does yours tell?

Yesterday I was watching the Texas/Baylor basketball game. When the star watch came across the screen, Baylor had a player by the name of Lacedarius. At first look I thought he had a Greek name but as I looked further I came to the conclusion that his name was probably a mixture of two names: Lacy and Darius. Now I know with a name like Tunde, most of you are probably thinking that I have no reason to be talking about Lacedarius. This is what I wrote on twitter yesterday:

i don't. i know my name is different but it actually has a deep rooted meaning. lacedarius sounds like a combo of 2 names.

Most Nigerian names have specific meaning. My niece's middle name literally means "born on sunday". My brothers (twins) names mean: "eldest of twins" and "youngest of twins". My youngest brothers name means: "born after twins". So while Nigerian names may seem hard to pronounce to most Americans they actually have some type of meaning and they are hardly ever made up. This morning when I woke up I checked my email and got a very interesting email from brother.

So we’ve all been there. First day of school, substitute teacher, work, even our every day lives. We’ve all been through it. We sit there, watching the individual with the list of names, just awaiting the look of panic and the pre-apology for mispronouncing our name. We know that they are about to butcher our names, so we raise our hands quickly, so in an effort to prevent both our embarrassment as well as theirs. What does it mean to be African in America? Well, it means many things. But one thing that I believe is constantly overlooked is our names. What’s in a name?

Due to the constant mispronunciation of our names, we are forced to do four things. One, we begin to go by nicknames. My best friend growing up had the last name Ayarinola. The unforgiving students called him granola bar until the day he graduated. For a long time, instead of calling me by my last name, Awoniyi, I was called ADub, AW, and A&W rootbeer, Awana-eat, I wanna wewe. The only thing that they have in common is that they all start with an A. Close, but not quite. I guess with nicknames it helps the individual over compensate for their lack of pronunciation ability.

Second, we go by the meaning of our names. My good friend, Ifedayo, went by love all through middle school. Good thing her name was not Joke.

Third, it forces us to get tired of cringing every time our name is slaughtered and we just begin to pronounce it however it will make it easy for them to say. Tomi become Tomy, Lara to Laura. Will it ever end? I have to say, though, out of all these, the fourth is the worst.

We change our names all together. For the first ten years of my life, I was called Seye, or rather Sheya as the average American pronounced it. Then after that, I began to be called Mary. Now to the African community, I’m Seye, but to everyone else, I’m Mary. And you all know exactly what I’m talking about. How many Graces or Josephs do you know?

Through my short life, I have begun to realize what slowly happens to us when we change our names in order to accommodate others. We slowly being to conform. We slowly being to forget who we are in hopes of making them happy. Although it is merely a minute change, our name is our identity. Our name is who we are.

19 years ago, Funso Awoniyi gave birth to her second daughter. This child almost did not make it; there were doubts concerning not only her survival, but a successful birth as well. But after labor that lasted for what felt like forever, the proud mother was able to hold her baby in her arms. She named that baby Oluwaseye. Oluwaseye. God has done this. God has done this. Not Nancy, not Beth, not Jessica, but God has done this, Oluwaseye.

True, being an African in America means that my name is constantly slaughtered. Yes, it means that I constantly have to just shrug off the fact that at times it feels like the individual is not even trying to pronounce my name correctly. But you know what? It also means that I am unique. It means that my name is a large part of who I am. It means that my name not only represents me, but it represents my family, my people, and the struggles that we have overcome. It means that my name is part of something bigger than I am. It means that my name is well, it’s my name. And I take pride in that. Oluwaseye. Oluwaseye. God has done this. God, has done this. My name tells a story. What story does yours tell?

Written by Seye Awoniyi

*******

I can relate to this email because I also dreaded the days when my teacher would call my name for roll and horribly mispronounce my name. It still happens to this day but I just politely correct whomever mispronounces my name. I take great pride in my name which means "he has come again". In Yoruba culture, there is belief in reincarnation. When a loving grandfather dies, and soon after, a child is born, they believe the father has reincarnated. I also understand that my name is a foreign language and it would unfair for me to expect people to pronounce it right the first time. What I won't stand for is for people to make fun of my name or mispronounce it on purpose. My name is not THAT difficult (pronounced Tune-Day). Even though my children will probably not have Nigerian first names (their middle and last names will be), their names will probably be biblical in origin. A name means a lot and it's not something that should be taken or given lightly.

Paintball

This past weekend I had a lot of fun hanging with friends. That says a lot considering I stayed in boring Nashville. I did a variety of things but the highlight of my weekend was a GSA (Graduate Student Association) sponsored social activity. We went to play paintball. I never really had a desire to play after seeing the giant blister a paintball left on my brother's neck when we were younger.

Paintball is a game or sport where players compete, in teams or individually, to eliminate opponents by hitting them with paintballs. We played on an outdoor field with teams of 5. We played capture the flag in a wooded playing field. That to me was the most fun. I think I would make a pretty good solider. We also played elimination on a hyper field. I really didn't like that game because it required less strategy and team work.

After a while we played on a larger wooded area playing field. To me the field was entirely too large because I got lost a couple of times and it was 17-17. It was hard to distinguish who was on my team. My greatest victory was sniping the hell out a dude who was dressed like this:

He blended in very well with the brush but seeing as I have 20/20 vision and great hearing, I heard him crawling through the brush. He got unloaded on (pause).

We were out there for about 3 hours and I had a complete blast. If you haven't been I strongly suggest you go. I was worried about the paintballs hurting or leaving bruises but I wore 3 layers of bottoms and tops and left unscathed. I am seriously considering buying my own paintball gun and going once a month. I wonder if the United States Paintball League (USPL) has any leagues near Nashville.