2 in a bed = ??????

My hearts pounding in my chest. Sweats running down my face like a waterfall and I can barely breathe from the sheer effort. I want to stop, but I say to myself keep going girl. You can do this. Yes! I can do this. I'm a Tiger.... hear me roar. I'm a strong, black woman and will not be defeated by the cheap cotton shoe laces on my Nike look alike trainers. Whoever thought bending over to tie your shoe laces could induce a minor stroke? I'm thinking of suing the manufacturers for the emotional stress and physical pain they have caused me. They really should put a warning on the box " Attention all fat cows! Do not attempt to put on shoes in a bending over position. Please seat your huge rear end on the floor and then proceed to tie said laces or better yet, get your long suffering partner, family member etc to tie them for you". With a warning like that I wouldn't have wasted half my morning huffing and puffing over the stupid things.

Anyway, no need to go jogging now. I think I can safely say I've had a very strenuous work out already. Maybe I should take up yoga. How hard can that be. Its all just fancy breathing and visualizing calming images. Tyrese in the shower. Tyrese in a thong. Tyrese in nothing but an apron making me dinner. Ha! I'm calm already. Bunny go go licious swears by it. Claims it makes her all supple and bendable. Why she needs her bunny ass to be any more bendable is beyond me. We need to donate that girl to science. Maybe they can figure out how one human being can dedicate so much time and effort to thinking about sex with out exploding. AHHH!!! It doesn't bear thinking about. I know some of you probably think I'm jealous since she's getting it and I'm not. But I can honestly say it has nothing to do with jealously. ITS ALL ABOUT PRINCIPLE!!!!!!!!

I should be the one being swung around by my ankles in some new kinky sexual position (and before you all start...Yes! I might not get any flight momentum going , but hey! who cares. Swinging, dragged on the carpet, who cares as long as it ends in a sweaty, tangled mess.) Not some disrespectful university of Ibadan girl. I went to public school for goodness sake. Not just public school...CATHOLIC ALL GIRLS PUBLIC SCHOOL. Us catholic school girls are supposed to be throwing off our knickers at every given opportunity but here I am with mine firmly wedged into place. I know I'm not supposed to be thinking about s e x but its hard. Especially when you've spent the entire weekend with a M A N!!!

Man! what man? you all say. For those of you that come to church with me......there is no man. Its all a figment of my imagination and to be honest you really shouldn't be reading this stuff anyway. Its crap and it will rot your mind. You have no idea how much forgiveness I need to ask for on a regular basis. For all you sinners out there... read on. I doubt anything you read in here can corrupt your filthy minds any further.

Ok! Lets get back to the M A N in question. Lets call him Hmmm Dude! Hmmm because Hmmm ! I really don't know what's going on with him or me for that matter. Known him for forever and now all of sudden he's starting to look cute. It might be the fact that we're both all grown up now and he longer has a scary penchant for wearing navy blue sailor blazers or maybe my "haven't had any in a while" hormones are just kicking in and all men are suddenly hot.

Anyway Hmmm Dude and I have been spending quite a bit of time together lately and now things are getting a tad blurry. Are we still just friends? Do friends hold hands in the cinema, cuddle on the sofa(I said cuddle SE Chick before you start flicking through your Bible for relevant passages to quote at me), Sleep on the same bed( I said Sleep Hurry up and propose chick. Not Snog, grope, rub, jigi jigi etc but sleep. Anyway I don't think anyone that shaves their pom pom, in preparation for goodness knows what, is in a position to be dishing out moral advise). Anyway, can you do all this stuff and really just be FRIENDS? or is it true when they say "A guy and a girl just can't be good friends without one of them thinking something else is going on?

When I speak to my Girlfriends they are all oh my God he fancies you. Ijebu Chick is already measuring my niece for her flower girl outfit. My male friends are like damn! Boy got game!!! He didn't even have to pay for a three course meal and he got a woman in his bed. They don't believe we both just went to sleep. According to them if that's true... He's either gay, an Eunuch or he's gay. Because according to Boy rule number 345 "Any man that has a woman in his bed most shag or at least attempt to shag her despite the fact that you might not fancy her." So at the moment I'm a little confused. Should I be insulted that he didn't try and rip off my Primark night gown? Cause lets be honest. It's Primark!! Hardly going to take a lot of effort now is it?? More importantly what would I have done if he had? Knowing me and my current situation, probably ripped one side , whilst he did the other. But seriously have we blurred the boundaries by being too friendly??? Am I reading too much into the whole spending time together thing? Am I just hormonal or am I starting to fancy my friend??? I really don't know. I need to calm down. I need yoga.......I need images of Tyrese holding a bottle of Johnson's baby oil.

Wanted.....New Me.

I spent my birthday rubbing oil on a stripper. They made me do it o Pastor. I sooooooo didn't want to, being the highly spiritual being that I am. But they said they had paid him a mini fortune and I had to rub the Johnson’s baby oil all over his chest and bits or they would burn my Tyrese in a thong poster. I am still traumatised just thinking about the oil glistening on his torso whilst he gyrated to the funky beats of James Brown. Ah what a great day….I mean awful. What an awful, awful day that was. Excuse me a moment. I just need to be alone for a while.

Flowers, naked men (especially important, seeing as I have no idea when I'll be seeing one again), pressie's, good food and somewhat bearable company. Yep! Turning 30 wasn’t so bad. But now...2 weeks and 2 days into the New Year the euphoria is gone and life sucks. Yep! You heard me 2006 sucks. As this is my blog, I intend to spend the next couple of minutes moaning about it. For all you happy, clappy, my glass is half full kind of people… you might want to speed read to someone else’s blog because I'm not in the mood to be shaking no tambourine. I was insulted in the worst way this morning and to be honest I'm not sure I want to talk about it with you lot. But therapy is expensive and after blowing all my cash in the winter sales, I'll take what I can get.

Alright here goes.....this morning, some guy on the bus offered me his seat. Awwwww....you might all say. How nice and gentlemanly. Yeah that’s what I thought until he asked me how far along I was. It took a minute to click and then THE SHAME, THE HORROR!!!!! He thought I was preggies!!!! I knew I had overdone it with the whole merry making over the Christmas season, but lets not go crazy people. There was no way I looked pregnant. Maybe he meant I had certain glow to me. That’s it. A nice healthy sheen courtesy of MAC foundation; because there was no way in hell that minuscule roll of fat hanging over the top my jeans could be construed as mine and Tyrese's love child. Anyway having had a minute to put my anger in check and resist the urge to beat his gentlemanly ass senseless with my umbrella, I did the only logical thing I could do....I responded with the answer "3 months". I know! I know! I should just have been honest but no way in hell I was going to share my embarrassment with the great unwashed on the 297 bus. So I lied, got off the bus as soon as humanly possible and rushed home to do my annual body MOT.

My annual MOT is a little ritual I have that involves a mirror (to see the full extent of the damage the past year has wreaked on my superior being), a tape measure (for accurate damage results), a box of Cadburys milk tray (to comfort me after comparing last years results to this years) and a duvet (to hide my flabby body under whilst eating the box of milk tray and sobbing about being round and single). This year’s results are as follows:

My tummy... Having once been able to pass as being only 2 months pregnant(always useful during the rush hour), I have now turned into full blown Heffer who can now wedge the yellow pages, assorted confectionary and a mobile phone between her tummy and her thighs. This would obviously be ideal if I wanted embark on a life of shoplifting. As it is, I'm trying to get Mr. Right, so looking like I already have one, who I play doctors and nurses with isn't going to help me in my quest. I feel a fog of depression descending upon me. Where's that box of Milk tray?

My boobies.....stopped defying gravity circa 1996(how I mourned the loss of muscle tone that year). But hey! At least they are still a couple of centimeters from my belly button which is always a good thing. And now they have my ample tummy to rest on for support, they do look a little perkier. You may all laugh but you all ain't going to stay perky forever. Believe me! I'll be there to help you load them into a wheelbarrow when the time comes. We'll see who will be laughing then.

My ass.....seeing as I don't have one, don't have to worry too much on that score. Can't say the same for SE & IJEBU Chick though. When the time comes, you’ll both be needing ass girdles to keep those things from tripping you up when you're walking.

My Thighs...can still crack a nut open with a clench (ok maybe 2 clenches, but at my age that’s something)? Hurry up and propose chick!!!!!!!I suggest you come and take lessons from your older, wiser and hotter sister. I'm sure your future hubby Market Dude would appreciate thighs of steel when the time comes. I also find the come in useful for practical things like putting your man in headlock for those nights you just rather he stayed at home watching "Desperate Housewives" with you instead of hanging with the boys. Might only need to eat half the box of milk tray after all.

My arms......just when I thought I could come out from under duvet and chuck the choccies I did my arms and I think I'm going to need something stronger than Milk tray. I need alcohol because I have CHICKEN WINGS!!!!!!!!! A strong gust of wind and I'll be able to fly to most local airports. What am I going to do???? Where’s that cooking sherry?

Is this what happens when a girl turns 30??? Glug…..You become older, glug…. wiser …glug(cooking sherry and chocolate is good!) and flabbier??? I refuse to let this happen to me. I'm off to invest in a pair of running shoes and embarking on a military style fitness regime. I shall become a toned, sleek, panther like creature with muscles of steel. Following my Christian principles of "Waste not. Want not". I'll head down to JD sports as soon as finish my box of milk tray, the bottle of o go goro and the eba with obgbono and assorted meat I had planned for dinner.

I beg...stop making noise in my ear. JD sports dosen't close till 6 pm. So I have ample time to finish my last real food before I start eating oxygen for the next 2 weeks. Kapish? Good! Now sod off and let a girl eat cow leg in peace.

Happy New Year...............

Oh my Lord! How long has it been people??? Have you all missed me? I know most of you spent many endless nights staring at your computer screens longing for the moment when Mena would return. It’s a shame none of you thought to send out a search party to find my ass. I could have been kidnapped by fat loving Igbo boys and forced to eat Krispy kreme's to maintain my sexy flab’s and dance erotically to the tunes of Victor Owaifo. But do you all care???? Obviously not. As long as you get your daily fix you are all happy. Well serves you all right then if you suffering from Mena withdrawal. Anyway I will forgive you all and let you once again bask in the glory of my life.

THE END OF 2005

Last few months were....how can I put it?...CRAP!! I spent most of it in a darkened room surrounded by every flavor of Ben&Jerry's ever created and all because....sob...I'm sorry, its just so hard ......sob...all because....Hot dude turned out to be NOT DUDE! after 2 dates with my happening self he realized he would always be an insignificant little worm compared to my wow self and removed himself from the picture. That’s all well and good but who they hell is going to reimburse me for the Ikea makeover and Aloe Vera toilet paper???

I think we should be able to sue guys for false representation. They shouldn't be allowed to get away with getting us all excited and hinting at better things to come and then going off and never calling again. Maybe if he had to sell his body to old age pensioners to pay for my new Ikea fluffy synthetic sheep skin rug he would think twice about messing girls around in the future. Anyway after the trauma of being rejected by a guy who probably can't spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious(Lord have mercy!!!!!Its from Mary Poppins you deprived people. Am I the only who had a video when I was a child), I emerged from my darkened room, threw away the tubs of Ben & Jerry’s in my freezer, re hung my life size picture of Tyrese in a thong on my wall and begged him to forgive me for ever considering dating a mere mortal. Life once again makes sense.

Since Crap dude(as Hot dude will now be forever known), I have been chatted up by dodgy blokes and one who even tried to instigate phone sex before we'd even been on a date. What is it with you men? You would think the rolling layers of fat would put them off, but nope they keep coming with their sick willy controlled minds looking for freebies. Maybe what Bunny go go licious says is true and not just spiteful banter due to the fact that I am hotty and she's just a crazy nympho animal lover. Maybe I do have a "Shag me" sign on my head. Is it possible that I might be the kind of woman who unknown ling exudes some hormone that drives guys into a I must Karma Sutra you now kind of frenzy??? Making them ignore my wifely attributes??? Lordy no! Answers on the back of a postcard on how I can permanently have the "Shag me" sign removed from my person. I refuse to be a free milk giving cow for the rest of my life.

But I guess it ain't all bad. I can build myself a nice little nest egg whilst becoming a shag free zone. Let’s face it; there are a lot of uglies out there who could do with some of my kinky pheromones. A few squirts and it’s suddenly shag fest 2006 in some poor deprived person’s boudoir. I'm all inspired just thinking about it. I wonder what I would call it??? Mena Amour or shaggadelic magic. Oh! Oh! I know, Mena's Magu Seduction. The possibilities are endless. I am truly a genius. Don't worry family there will be discounts for all those who knew me before I got rich and famous. Some of you will obviously be needing it more than others. Bunny go go licious.... you are totally BANNED from having any free samples due to your already insatiable appetite. Not giving you any reasons to work my brother into an early grave. Nope, the person that really needs it and I'm sure those of you that know her will agree, is SE chick. Don't worry honey; you'll be the first to get a bottle, so you can finally move on from bananas, plantain and all other yellow, peel able, pervy shaped fruit. Its time to move on to LIVING things. Male, female it doesn’t matter as long you are both of the same species. I know you think you are being economical by having a plaything that can later be turned into a variety of tasty dishes but really, its time to stop. No....please don't argue....just put down the banana and walk away from the fresh food aisle. No Girl!!!! Don’t look back. That’s a good girl. Go find yourself a nice dress, spray some Mena's Magu Seduction and nab yourself a man. AH! My work here is done people.

The rest of the year passed in an alcohol, present giving (non of them were mine, having been cast into a stingy non gift giving family), food and constant I'll go on a diet tomorrow haze. It came, it went, had its ups and downs but 2005 is finally out the door. For me .......more ups than downs but can't say I'm sad to see it go because things can only get better. HAPPY VERY BELATED NEW YEAR!