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Welcome to my blog. I'm Nana, bringing all the fun to your yard and beyond. Nice to meet you too.

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THIS IS NOT A DATE: EPISODE 1 (MICHEAL POWER)

THIS IS NOT A DATE: EPISODE 1 (MICHEAL POWER)

DISCLAIMER:
THESE STORIES ARE REAL LIFE STORIES AS RECALLED BY THE AUTHOR. ALL NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR PRIVACY PURPOSES. THANKS.
— Nana

I live in New York City. A city with over 8 million humans. At risk of sounding Carrie Bradshaw-ish, let me say this: This ride is NO sex and the city. There is nothing glamorous or even successful about these stories I'm about to tell and with Coney Island beef franks as my witness, I will tell the truth and nothing but the truth.

I am in my twenties, almost mid twenties (see, not Carrie). And unlike the fab women of Sex and the City, I have literally 1 friend who lives out of the state(okay, that sounds sad).

So why am I perpetually single?

I don't do dates and for as long as I have lived in this city, I may have been on under 10 dates. Dates require dressing up, acting proper, wearing red lipstick, gold eyeshadow and pretending I enjoy talking about the DOW when all I really want to do, is lie in my beige tufted queen size bed in my 12 by 12 room(classic New York apartment) and watch "On Demand" by Bravo.

I became a woman in this city. My expectations have been shaped by thick pastrami and the taste of $1 pizza slices. I have become this woman who wears headphones everywhere mainly because I am hiding.

I don't want to be bothered.

And no, I don't want to talk to you sir. 

Prior to 2015, I was in a 3 year off and on relationship with a man better known as Diablo, the ever changing visitor (Yep, a devil and I am not exaggerating). You know how it goes. One day you are loving life, smelling the flowers, food tastes good, colors are bright, your butt looks great and then waltzes in a devil. Not the kind of man who checks the boxes or entries on your "TO HAVE" list but there is just something about him. Before long, you have wasted 3 years, countless tickets and time trying to make it work.

In May 2015, after an incident that called for crying in the bathroom( I am NOT a crier or hugger), I knew it was done. Diablo and I had come to the end of the road. I had to leave. I was tired and done.

OR WAS I?

For the next two years, I put my love life on lockdown. No dating, no socializing, no flirting, no looking in the direction of anything that has a scrotum, no "hi" backs, definitely no horizontal mambos. I had an open wound that needed care and I had no intention of rebounding.

THEN CAME MICHEAL POWER.

(Remember what I told you about having a nice day and a devil walks in?)

So here we were in September 2016. I opened my Facebook profile and I saw it.

A message. 

TO BE CONTINUED..... (NEW EPISODE EVERY TUESDAY. )

#FICTIONFRIDAY: "TIMES WE MISS" BY KWAKU GYAMFI (PART 1)

#FICTIONFRIDAY: "TIMES WE MISS" BY KWAKU GYAMFI (PART 1)

#MUSICMONDAY: "PAINKILLER" (SARKODIE ft RUNTOWN)

#MUSICMONDAY: "PAINKILLER" (SARKODIE ft RUNTOWN)

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