I met my future.....

I hate that I always have to scold myself for being AWOL on my own blog BUT life as a leisure scribbler and a full time MBA student amongst other things just isn't that easy to juggle. However I have no excuse as my first semester is officially over....HOORAH!!! and since I ain't making the customary trip home *boo hoo*, I actually can get on with some bloggage :-)

Sooo tonight I'm in the mood for some deep banter after a rather wonderful and unexpected weekend of revelations and just good 'ol Scribblediva chilling. Yesterday I went to church for the first time in a loooooooooooong *tumbleweed moment* time...and I have to say, it felt jolly GOOD! There really is no place like "home". My favourite pastor did his thing and had his son in-law in tow...hmmmm I need to think of how best to phrase the rest of this post because seeing him was a revelation in itself. I really thought men of his calibre (in EVERY sense of the word) were now extinct. Ladies I have prayed long and hard for God to give me a hint, a glimpse, an idea, something if anything of what my future husband would look and act like and I think He finally came through on that prayer yesterday. The intent with which he listened to his father in-law, the look of respect, acknowledgement and understanding, the ease between them and the g-swag he had going on was just ridiculous. What I saw could only be heaven sent and I think I can sincerely say he is probably the best looking Nigerian dude I've seen in a WHILE like wow! Yet the humility was on point. Like he hadn't clocked enough brownie points, my brother enlightened me on the obstacles he faced before he finally settled down with my pastor's daughter, being born into a Muslim family et al. Hearing and seeing really makes believing a walk in the park. I've always known at the back of my mind and somewhere deep in my heart that I would marry right especially as marriage isn't necessarily what keeps me up at night lol (no thanks to my intense MBA programme) BUT more recently I have had some major doubts. As a firm believer in God, I believe yesterday's encounter was a much needed and well timed vision of what's to come.
I don't know about anyone else but great men still exist and I know my not-too-distant future husband is one of them :-)

Now time for some much needed indulgence....Gu Hot Chocolate Souffle......bellissima!

Ivory Towers and all things random...

Oh how the time flies! I can't believe we are more than half way through the semester and I pretty much know everyone on my programme by name and face (major drum roll!!! lol). I'm going to have to make this post mega short as I have to be in bed shortly (switches off telly and blackberry simultaneously), BIG day tomorrow (don't ask!). So Monday was interesting.....we had a mash up Interpersonal Skills session and got to see the other groups yay!!! (fresh minds to prey on lol). Sadly it was a pretty drab session not helped by the gloomy, wet weather we had ALL day (yuck!). On the upside, Team D (yes that would be me and 4 other equally creative and intelligent guys), won the Ivory Tower challenge (*cue music: All I do is win win win no matter what!! :-D*). Thrown into compulsory silence having been placed in groups of 5, we were asked to build an Ivory Tower, out of 10 sheets of paper and 2 rather short strips of sellotape in just 2 minutes...yikes! It was fun and things got heated towards the end as you know we MBAs are a naturally competitive bunch :-)
However, having withstood the test of paper planes, over enthusiastic hand gestures and other durability tests both expected and unexpected lol, we won! We have our last Interpersonal Skills session next Monday and I can tell you one thing for a fact......I'm gonna miss 'em!

On a brighter note, I just completed the first batch of another exciting group presentation and I have 2 more to tackle *yawn* (I really must work harder at getting a social life!). Good night scribblers I'll be back sooner than you think muah!

P.S. I just realised this is my 50TH BLOG POST OMG OMG OMG I'm so proud of me!!!!! *hugs self tight* To all my readers I luv you guys!!! Thanks for the support I promise to keep blogging so long as my imagination and life remain somewhat interesting :-)

TMI!

Another quick number, student-hood is not entirely about lazy days and drunken nights (FACT!). I'm actually killing two birds with one stone here, basically every glorious Monday, we have an Interpersonal Skills session from 2-5pm, during which we discuss even more fluff and basically probe and pry way too much into each other's lives (then write up a journal about). Frankly, I thoroughly enjoy these sessions as I've always thought myself to be some sort of an amateur psychologist and my tutor is just so cute and lovely, its difficult to get mad at what most of my classmates find to be an utter waste of time. More importantly, I am on a scholarship (yes ScribbleD is a rare find...beauty+brains hahaha), so yea I have the the great joy of serving as a model student and can't really afford to skip classes except for the odd sick day :-)

Right, let's get to the meat of my post. Yesterday, we tackled Stress Management which was in itself a somewhat stressful session (the irony!). To start off, about a third of us turned up to class which made the session  a bit too intimate and to some extent boring as we were stuck with the same groups for the entire duration of the class *yawn* Firstly, our tutor Tim (I'm using a fake name by the way lol) gave us a brief history on stress and its derivation from the engineering field, and then he went on to describe how stress typically manifests itself in 3 different forms, physical, emotional and behavioural. He then handed out a sheet with an extensive list of these stress manifestations, asked us to tick those we could relate with, then invited us to form groups of four to discuss our observations. In my group, one of the guys actually ticked "loss of interest in sex" and felt the overwhelming urge to go into great detail about how this particular trait applies to him. It was of course hilarious and a tad bit uncomfortable to take in (at some point I said "ooookay too much information!" but he kept going). Turns out sex for married people almost always becomes an after thought in the face of real life pressures like bills, insurance, fees and what have you. Furthermore, he told us that as a married man who has had sex waaaay too many times and in all the different positions he knows of (I think this was my TMI moment lol), he felt somewhat bored and less excited about sex as it was in his mind a matter of "been there done that" (eureeka moment! lol). Anyway we somehow managed to get off that topic but the shock factor of such intimate revelation left me rather scarred and anxious for what our next session might cause some people to reveal!
Bottom line, I was able to take away that some amount of stress is necessary for us to stay motivated about life and indeed too much of it could lead to death. Seeing as I do not believe in the usage of new age religions such as Yoga e.t.c. to destress, I believe simple mantras such as EAT.PRAY.LOVE go a longer way in ensuring long life and prosperity...hip! hip! hip! HOORAY! :-)

Live in the moment....

Have to keep today's post short and sweet as I have mountain loads of work to get through tonight and my eyes already feel heavy with sleep and sheer laziness *yawn* Decided to take a hint from Drake and "live in the moment" over the weekend......ended up being "The Best I Ever Had" and I really didn't want it to be "Over" but as they say all good things do come to an end, so I bid goodbye to my long suffering boyfriend (London....yes I am in an intense and very rewarding relationship with a city lol) and headed back to the man currently after my heart, Robin Hood. I am quite an easy person to please so really I didn't get up to anything outrageous but I spent unprecedented quality time with my even more long suffering male best buddy and we had a BLAST! As someone who never really had strictly platonic relationships with the opposite sex, I thoroughly enjoyed the company, conversation and everything else, it was amazing to just be able to hang and talk and flirt and get some much needed perspective on a few things that were weighing on my mind. Anyhoo I finally conquered my presentation demons today and delivered a near flawless presentation with my dream team (Group 8). The consensus was that we totally ROCKED the class and I hope this success is sustainable for the rest of my MBA programme.

On that note I need to get through some case studies and other readings in preparation for class and some other group meetings tomorrow *sigh*

First...a quick detour....gidilounge, YouTube and BB messenger....what's really good?! :-D

About time....

So I know I disappeared for fear of fame come too soon (I wish!). Honestly I can't even use the "busy" card because that has been my excuse for the last few months and frankly no one seems to be buying it. And they say honesty is the way forward (tell that to the people in my life)........on a lighter note, I haven't been ill or anything equally traumatising. I've just been forging ahead with my MBA programme and yes my dear friends told me it would be a tedious year ahead but having worked I-banking hours I thought it would be a walk in the park (sooooo not the case!). I barely have time for any extra-curricular activities apart from messing about with my wardrobe every morning, in my bid to look like your average student lol. Geekily enough (yes you probably wouldn't find geekily in the dictionary but who cares :p), I am loving every moment of it, especially my ScribbleD inspired pad complete with a spa and every facility I do NOT have the time or energy to enjoy (I'm working on this). Also helps that my sis is here so hoorah to new experiences and opportunities!

Furthermore, this city is blessed with HOT TALL MEN!!!!! Can I get an AMEN from a fellow tall sister?! Lol. Sorry but I've never felt so petite in my vertically endowed life. Best of all they are hotties and from different walks of life so I'm spoilt for choice. Sadly, two things seem to be getting in the way, for starters, I seem to have lost my appetite for men (yes ALL of you) and secondly, I think I may have to embrace my inner Cougar seeing as most of these potential hotties are undergrads (eeeeks!). On a steamier note, I have something that you might call a crush on a fellow classmate BUT I've always only ever played Away (geddit lol) so I'm not entirely sure how this is gonna pan out but for now it's somewhat exciting / distracting (in a good way). Anyhoo I felt the need to express myself especially as our Interpersonal Skills coach says better out than in :-)

Happy Sunday guys......watch this space xx

Guess who's baaaaack? :-)

Short entry as my writing is a bit rusty given my unforeseen hiatus. After much pondering and bickering (mainly with myself) lol, I decided to carry on with my random ramblings. Thanks to all those that actually sought me in my absence and the eager readers that offered blog topics for fear I'd been struck by a deadly case of boredom (partly true). Without much ado, I would like to inform everyone that ScribbleD is back and hopefully here to stay HOORAH!!!.......xoxo

Men Cry Too

As sleep decided to play an endless game of hide and seek with me tonight, I thought I had engage in a bit of work related research via http://www.bbc.co.uk/, but ended up going from reading an article about private equity firm, Lion Capital, putting up its c.70% share of Wagamama for sale at c.£250m (bought at £102m in 2005.....sweet!), to skimming through an article on twenty films that make men cry (big mistake!). In light of news that Toy Story 3 makes men cry (WHY?), male readers got in touch with their emotional side and opened up about their own private tear-jerkers. Judging by the list, it is no surprise that men and women really do not speak the same language emotionally. True to form, a lot of the movies selected had nothing to do with romance, more about friendship in testing times and triumphing (men are so simple no). Personally, The Champ did it for me! I'm still sniffing and forcing back tears from watching the final scene of this heart wrenching classic film on YouTube as shown below (Warning: You WILL cry!!!).

Top Male Tear Jerkers (selected by real men)

1. There's one scene for me, it's the Grey Havens at the end of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. I've seen it loads of times, but even as a man in my 30s, it still manages to get me going every single time! The emotion of the characters, having gone through their personal sacrifices (particularly Frodo of course), coupled with Howard Shore's brilliantly moving score always makes me weepy with that lump in the throat feeling - I remember wailing in the cinema lol (such a girl sheesh!)

2. The Shawshank Redemption had me in fits of tears because of the joy and happiness that ensues when those two lifelong companions are reunited on that beach. The hardships they've endured and the power of their friendship stirs the longing for good friends in me. Yep, I'm a weeper and proud! - I still haven't seen this film

3. Picture this: me, my wife, her mom and dad, my mom and dad, the kids. We go to a movie all together for the first time ever. We go to Up and the only person in the group not sobbing is my father in law. Now I finally have proof that he is a robot. My dad cried for an hour. I tried to hold it back, but my throat was throbbing so hard it felt dangerous not to give in. Then I let it rip like a little girl. - OMG I saw this on the plane, was sobbing silently in my seat, how embarrassing and its a bladdy animated film!

4. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest has a tragic ending, and makes me bleary eyed when I think too hard on it, but the tears strangely intensify upon the victorious final shot, to see something positive and good come from such bleakness and despair. - Never seen it

5. The one film that makes me cry every time I watch it is Marley and Me. When he says goodbye to the dying Marley... I'm starting to fill up just thinking about it. I don't know if it's because I have a dog and have had to go through the heartache of saying goodbye before to my previous dog when she passed away but this film makes me cry more than any other. - This was one emotionally charged movie, especially as the relationship between Marley (the dog) and Owen Wilson was so believable. I also thought about my late dog when I saw this, so sad :-(

6. When I was a tender 18-year-old in the RAF, they showed The Champ to a bunch of us raw recruits. The room filled with male bravado soon quietened down and although dark you could see sparkling eyes. Nobody dared talk for fear of showing a trembling voice. - I dare you to watch the below clip and not blink back a few tears like really, this movie made us weep as kids *sniffles*

7. I wailed out loud at the end of The Notebook which wouldn't have been so bad except I was in the middle row in a packed 747 and I don't think anyone else was watching it. Oh the shame. - Yet to see this

8. I'm a 48-year-old man, ex-rugby player and motorcycle racer and I admit that Babe did it for me. Right at the end when the farmer says "That'll do Pig", I start welling up at the thought of it. - Eeeek! Babe made me cry too, I'm not abnormal after all :-) oops I mean :-(

9. I never cried at movies until after my daughter was born. The first time was Field of Dreams. When Kevin Costner had a catch with his father, I was bawling. I purchase the film every time it comes out on a new medium (video, DVD, anniversary edition, Blu-Ray), and I still cry. In fact, I cry before that scene, in anticipation. Some day, when the holographic version is released, I will cry on James Earl Jones when he says "for it is money they have and peace they lack". - No clue
10/11. Many readers found the end of The Railway Children particularly emotional 10. I have only seen my Dad cry on two occasions, and one of them was during Chariots of Fire. The end of The Railway Children, with Jenny Agutter running down the platform crying "Daddy, my daddy" gets me every single time. I must have seen it 25-30 times over the years and on every occasion, I am a gibbering wreck.

12. The Finnish sauna documentary, Steam of Life, had a reputation for being a tear-jerker. I didn't believe it until I went to see it myself, and all the men in the cinema were in tears. Fantastic doc, by the way. - Never seen it

13. The 1941 Tom and Jerry cartoon The Night Before Christmas has a very emotional ending. Tom sees Jerry freezing in the cold bitter snow outside the house and then feels bad for Jerry. He warms him up by the fire and gives him a Candy Cane as a present and Jerry then takes a mousetrap hidden in Tom's bowl of milk and Tom and Jerry become friends. This is probably the most emotional scene in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. - Are you having a laugh? lol!

14. Man On Fire, with Denzel. A hard hearted soldier of fortune discovers the inherent goodness of human nature in a child and gives his life in exchange for hers. I can't watch it without crying. - Hmm, never seen it

15. Mary Poppins makes me well up, at the redemption of Mr. Banks. - Huh?? LOL. Actually Mary Poppins was a tad emotional but come on!

16. The only film that got me blubbing was Life is Beautiful right at the end when the little boy gets to ride on the tank after winning hide and seek and then finding his mother. What made it worse was I was in the middle of a flight to New Zealand, it was half past something in the morning, everyone else was asleep and I was crying like a three-year-old whose balloon had burst. - Never seen it

15. Bridge to Terabithia had both myself and my 12-year-old son in tears in the cinema, openly asking each other why the girl had to die. I am not worried about being teary in front of my sons; I think it's good to let them know it's OK to let your feelings show. - Never seen it

16. The Green Mile often gets men blubbing 16. I've watched The Green Mile a few times and always end up crying. I'm usually sobbing at the lines, "Please boss, don't put that thing over my face, don't put me in the dark. I'm afraid of the dark." - Don't remember much of this movie to be honest

17. The bit in The Italian Job where the Mafia smash Michael Caine's Aston Martin and the two E-Types had me crying like a baby. - LOL madness

18. Rocky winning the title and manages to say "'except for my kid being born this is the greatest day in the history of my life, I just want to say one thing, to my wife at home, Yo Adrian... I did it!" Gets me every time! - Don't think I've ever seen this

19. My Life as A Dog, a Swedish film that observes a 12-year-old boy, Ingemar, struggling with life with a terminally ill mother and an absent father as well as meeting all the normal developments that life presents us. The tear-jerker for me is how Ingemar tries to come to terms with the story of Laika (a theme that runs through the whole film), a dog sent to space with a guaranteed death sentence. Ingemar consoles himself constantly with "life could be worse" - [I'm] in tears now. - Wow never seen or heard of this film but it sounds really sad :'(

20. If I want a really good purgative cry then it has to be Truly, Madly, Deeply. That's one film I can only watch on my own. - Never seen it

Going Nude

Get your mind outta the gutter folks, I'm talking about lipgloss :-) I'm not really big on makeup, purely because I lack the patience to spend quality time fussing over each feature on my face, but my vanity means I have piles of unused or partly used glosses, lipsticks, powders, mascaras and professional makeup tool kits gathering dust on my dressing table lol. Sadly, I keep picking up whatever the must-have item is and so far this summer, nude is the way to go. Pink has had its time in the spotlight too, knocking le rouge out of the way for the bright summer season but nude is the next big thing (or so I've been told). Innocently walking through the makeup floor in Harrods, I clocked eyes with a male makeup artist at the Bobbi Brown stand (big mistake!). He had one of those pitiful faces that made you want to buy something just to make his day better (sigh). So anyhoo I strolled over and let him work his magic, seducing me into splurging on a few nude essentials, even telling me their Pot Rouge for lips and cheeks in Cabo Coral made my cheek bones pop like Beyonce's (as if!). Fortunately for him, my sister approved and so did a few passers by who actually stopped to watch the transformation process (eeeek!). Ever since that fateful day, I haven't braved the nude look but I thought I'd try it out today, wish me luck!

Wearing Boobi Brown rich color gloss in Melon

Back in the day..

If there were ever a time to obsess about the past, I think now would be it. With shows like Mad Men receiving rave reviews (for obvious reasons! the show is AH-MAY-ZEEING!!! like OMG Don Draper!) and a lot of 80s trends making a comeback this year, I think a little walk down memory lane should be embraced. Besides history is a great reference for the future (okay I just made that up lol). Having zoomed my way through all the episodes of Mad Men thanks to http://www.tvduck.com/, I decided to go out and buy a couple of DVDs from the 80s to help pass the time. It was during my rummage in HMV that I stumbled across an 80s movie club DVD box set for Working Girls, which included five movies: Desperately Seeking Susan, Moonstruck, Romancing the Stone, Where Harry Met Sally and Working Girl (great selection no). Given my investment banking background and work withdrawal symptoms (which I felt for the first time this week), I obviously started off with Working Girl which I had never seen. I was glued to my screen from the opening song (Let the River Run), till the closing credits. Top movie without a doubt! Great wardrobe, stellar performance from Melanie Griffiths (never knew she looked / acted that good once upon a time!), intelligent script with some great lines:

Mel G - "I've got a head for business and a body for sin, is anything wrong with that?" (Fierce!!!)

Mel G - "I'm not steak, you can't just order me"

Sigourney Weaver - "Dress shabbily they notice the dress, dress impeccably they notice the woman - Coco Chanel"

Aside from Alec Baldwin, the male talent was lacking (visually). I actually found a young Harrison Ford a bit too clean cut for my liking, but he still made a fine executive, and what is it with men (Don Draper too) and extra shirts in their office drawers?? Doubt my colleagues ever had such stashes, not that I was looking. Oh and the outdated computer monitors were hilarious with the plain black screen and ghastly green text display (life with no MS Excel eeeek!). All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed this flick, think I'll be checking out Desperately Seeking Susan next :-)

London State of Mind

P.S. Excuse the not so great blackberry camera shot

What do you do when you are all blogged out? Top up your Oyster card and hop on any night bus heading West :-). Well that was exactly what my sis and I did earlier tonight and yes we got lost a few times but we found our way home (phew!). Another great thing about good ol' London, is you don't have to do much to get BUZZED on a night out. We initially planned to have drinks in any bar around Piccadilly Circus or Leicester Square, but got carried away with our people spotting and ended up strolling across the Westminster Bridge whilst trying to shake off some annoying dudes (some guys just lack tact). Anyway after pretending to speak no English, they eventually buggered off and we got down to some serious tourist acts like taking goofy pics of ourselves on our blackberries and some equally distorted pics of the London Eye (it was a great view but I will NEVER go on that Ferris wheel). Can't believe I actually considered hiring out a capsule for my 21st birthday, given my severe case of Acrophobia. Funny enough, my friends and I decided to ride The Wheel of Manchester earlier this year (BIG mistake! lol), we ended up pressing the emergency button half way through especially as one of us (*cough*), had a panic attack and threatened to pass out if the operators didn't bring us right down lol. Where was I? Oh yes, London ;-) After much roaming (Trafalgar Square, Big Ben, Parliament Square), we eventually headed home, quietly content and appreciative of this very cosmopolitan city's gems!

Facebook woes

I'm sorry but Facebook is getting on my last nerve. Like every time I sign on, there is a new random person trying to add me as a friend??? What is that about? I would NEVER even dream of adding a total stranger to my "friends list"........people forget what the term "friend" means these days! Well according to http://www.dictionary.com/, a friend is a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard. HELLO! lol. Okay I do sound hysterical but seriously it is beyond infuriating, it is actually extremely rude, presumptuous and a severe disregard for privacy (still sound hysterical lol but I mean it!). These people need to stop! The excitement of seeing that red alert box over the friend icon on my facebook page has now been replaced by anxiety. I'm even getting good at ignoring it for some days before checking in, just to make sure a real friend hasn't been ignored for longer than necessary. Someone needs to sort it out. A friend suggested I change my profile pic because it could be attracting the wrong sort of attention BUT the invites are also coming from females (should I be concerned? lol). The polite thing to do is send a message first then a friend request not vice versa, but I guess that is asking for too much. The good news is I know the solution to my problem, LEAVE FACEBOOK (duh!) but the bad news is I can't go through with it, at least not yet. So till then my soon to be long lost genuine friends will need to join me in playing the waiting game, while the strangers can keep getting the ignore button :-)

Hookahdom

Yesterday was one of those days that were just too good I wasn't quite sure what part to blog about. Everything was splendid and to top it all off, my dear friend (first ever person my antisocial self made friends with at uni *blush*), treated me to my favourite Thai restaurant, Busaba Eathai. My close peoples know I'm ALL about great conversation and boy did we have A LOT to talk about, especially as we hadn't done a one-on-one session in ages. One of the things we talked about was our blatant love for London and how this city caters for everyone like none other, especially in the summer when we have a gazillion tourists roaming about (sometimes aimlessly lol).
So on my way back home, driving through Edgware Road a.k.a. Hookahdom (some call it Little Beirut), I couldn't help but notice how different this road looked back in the 90s when hardly any Hookah or Shisha bars existed. Now, a drive through this stretch of road feels like a drive through the streets of Persia, Egypt, Morocco and other Arab cities. It also smells different and every other restaurant doubles as a Shisha bar. Even their Starbucks is customised, luv it! For someone who lives really close by, I am certainly not a hookah queen, in fact I've only smoked it once and that was on a trip to DC sometime last year, probably Thanksgiving (random I know). Anyhow it was fun but I hear it is worse than smoking a fag (well that is what my lil sis told me). For now, I'll just stick to admiring my miniature Moroccan Hookah pipe (see photo), which I bought on a trip to Marrakech with my friend, a few years ago (great place but take a man, you'll need the protection!). Lurve bric-a-brac and try to get some wherever I go. That reminds me, must head to Portobello road tomorrow (note to self, no Hummingbird cupcakes allowed!)

Jerk!

Okaaaay so it's past 4am and my sisters and I have been jerking all night lol (the joys of youth!). They are still going strong but my over 25yrs old bones and muscles called it a night about an hour ago. It all started because my party throwing friend sent me a list of new hot tracks to check out (he is the only reason my playlist stays fresh). So any way we started off with a mix of whiskey, boiling water, honey, lemon, and cinnamon a.k.a Hot Toddy (Usher featuring Jay Z and Ester Dean). Everyone and their mama have had an opinion on this song today so I'm not gonna say much but it's fierce! Thankfully my sisters and I are quite talented (my youngest sis is great with lyrics, melody and everything in between, oh and she's a great dancer just like me and my other sis....so I like to think lol), so we really didn't hold back in terms of our music selection for our impromptu dance session. We went through an eclectic playlist, often taking dance notes off some brave folks on YouTube and that was when the jerking started lol. There is something retarded but insanely fun about jerking BUT it won't be a move I'll be displaying outside the confines of my bedroom, unless I've got some fierce juice in me veins :-). Speaking of which I think I need a body double for this weekend, so many parties (I CAN'T get out of *groan*) so little stamina eeeeks! Time to hit the sack xx

Love Mondays....

Feeling good, looking better, has been my motto for today, thanks to a few special people (one in particular......sigh). As I sit in bed, with my duvet wrapped around my legs (nippy London night) and my well deserved glass of my favourite tipple (Malbec wine) on my bedside table, I can't help but smile (you know that nerdy lovey dovey smile *shy face*) as I sway from side to side to Yori Yori remix (funny I didn't care much for the original). Like someone rightly commented on YouTube, "the song gives me feelings". Feelings I haven't dealt with in a hot minute and the timing is apt (hmmm). Summer '010 has been beautiful. I think it's safe to say I have ALL I need now :-)

Thought I should spread the love, enjoy! xox

P.s. All this good music has got me dancing....who knows one day I just might treat you to one of my sessions.....yah!

Born to be Wild!

I decided to go back to my roots yesterday, having suffered an excruciating migraine for the last few days. Yea I I know I am a bit of a hypochondriac but I had taken several Ibruprofen tablets, given up watching Mad Men on my laptop so my eyes could "rest" and downed several gallons of water to cure what I assumed to be a dehydration inspired migraine and yet my head felt like a clueless carpenter had moved in with the hopes of constructing the next world wonder......it HURT like hell and it just didn't seem like any known cure was working. Needless to say my featherlight Peruvian weave began to feel like an over fed hippo, weighing on my throbbing head. So I chopped it ALL off and freed myself of the bondage. I am not sure if plain old fresh air or psychology has anything to do with it but boy do I feel as good as new today :-)

I know a lot of natural sistahs like to say "I'm not my hair" BUT today I most certainly am my hair. I haven't felt this much liberated, eccentric and exotic in such a long time. Granted I had a relaxer about a month or so ago so my hair isn't entirely in its natural state. Still, I'm luvin' its wild state! Defo giving the weave a pass for the rest of the summer :-)

Let's go there!

I've always thought it pretty rich of Western media to remain fixated on the great divide between the rich and the poor in Nigeria, particularly Lagos. Between 2007 and now, I can't tell you how many articles and documentaries I've read and watched about how a large majority of Lagosians live in absolute poverty while  the upper class who typically reside on the island i.e. Ikoyi, Victoria Island, Lekki and the ever expanding areas beyond Lekki, live like rockstars (okay not in those exact words but you get my drift).

Anyhow, a few days ago, I drove through some parts of London I never quite knew existed. London can be a pretty depressing place sometimes, no thanks to its unpredictable weather and blatant lack of modern architecture (not that I mind but some people find Victorian buildings dull), so you can imagine my state of mind after discovering what I now call the pit of London. For reasons best known to me, I will rather not divulge the exact location of these parts of London but I can tell you it was a depressing experience. Run down buildings and equally tattered residents, abandoned vehicles, unattended dump sites, empty nil-star rated restaurants with clumsy looking sign boards and a handful of druggies, beggars and homeless people roaming about. It had nothing in common with the London I have grown accustomed to. The London I see when I look out my bedroom window. It definitely lacked the presence of tourists, most especially Arabs who now make up a significant portion of London's creme de la creme. Few weeks ago, my sister and I were in Knightsbridge for a bit of shopping and even though all we did was shop, we felt like we had journeyed to the set of Sex and the City 2, even indulging in a bit of car spotting (Rolls-Royce Phantom, Lamborghini Murciélago and Porsche Panamera to name a few). Meanwhile on my drive threw the pit, there was a vivid lack of life, hardly any cars on the road, we even saw one of those retro Volkswagen Beetles, and the local transport was nothing as efficient as that in Central London.  Granted, the poor in London are better catered for than in Lagos but relatively speaking, they are not necessarily in a better position if travelling from one post code to another makes you question if you are indeed in the same city. Also unlike Lagos, a vast majority of London's upper class (in financial terms), are foreigners >>>>>> food for thought.

As a trained economist, I am well aware of the existence of income inequality in every nation, measured by something we call the Gini Coefficient. According to http://www.poverty.org.uk/, inner London is deeply divided: it has by far the highest proportion of people on a low income but also the highest proportion of people on a high income. So not only have I witnessed a great divide between the rich and the poor in the UK, by class, education and post code, there exists statistical data to back this fact up.....(just saying!). Still love London though hehehehe xx

Short Story 2: The Unexpected Call

With a number of people loving Sound of the Underground which I posted a few weeks ago. I thought I might give another short story a go. I find short stories easier to come by as they hardly ever need to be conclusive and always provide some sort of suspense for both the reader and writer. So I literally wrote this in my sleep several weeks ago and only just stumbled across it when I was searching my scribble pad for a post inspiration....

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Much like every other city sleeper, Jackie knew sleeping was an art not an act. Having moved from the country to the city almost a year ago, she had diligently mastered the art, ensuring her days were kept very busy so she was nothing but exhausted before heading for the boudoir. However, in the weeks following Dotun's brief visit, sleep had become scarce. As she lay in bed subconsciously reciting the speech she had carefully rehearsed for the moment she knew he would pop the question, she tasted the salty wetness of tears as they slowly travelled down her beautifully contoured face, pausing at her model like cheek bones before adopting a roundish bend to roll down the sides of her face, finishing around the corners of her lips and dripping to her Egyptian cotton 1500 thread count sheets. She had spent every other night in this state and as much she hoped for an end to this emptiness, she somehow knew tonight might be different, if only she tried a bit harder to push Dotun's memories out of her mind.

Friends had come with their words of wisdom, encouragement, hope and promises of better days to come. Her mum had offered to ride the train down from Devon, despite her phobia of travelling and her disdain for her African lover. Yet, Jackie remained transfixed by memories of that moment when he walked away with no signs of ever coming back. So she did what she knew in her heart a lot of other women would do but dared not share. She stayed in anticipation of a sign, perhaps an unexpected call, the kind that you hold out for so long you pretend to have forgotten about. That which you hope would come when the night seems a bit too long for your thoughts or dreams and warms you up like a blanket on a cold winter night. As she tried to blink back the tears, her eyes stung and knew it was time to stop. She knew more than ever before that she wanted a sign from her long distance lover but true to form it never came. Partly waiting with abated breath, she used her remaining mental strength to attempt a telepathic message which she knew wouldn't travel past her bedroom door, obviously because what they had was no more. They had lost their spark and connection and like many others had failed to make it to the finishing line, even though they had run a good race. Her skin looked paler than she remembered and her hair felt limp and dry, just the way her world felt whenever she remembered his last words to her. She pulled out her outdated diary and did what she felt was her last shot at regaining her sanity. She wrote. The more the words came, the closer she came to the brink of sleep, till she finally fell into a deep slumber. In the morning, she rose, full of ambition and hope, rushing off to the post office, satisfied but still very much anxious of what was to be of his unexpected call, following her heartfelt letter.

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Youth is wasted on the young

I remember spending countless hours as a young child, peering into what I thought the future would be, flirting majorly with the idea of myself and the world, several years from where ever I stood in time and wishing it all to happen so fast so I could get to where I could only access in my dreams. My favourite game at the time, was "playing grown ups", pretending to be a mother, wife, doctor, journalist, actress and everything else but my youthful self. I certainly enjoyed cooking and sometimes eating make believe "pepper-soup" with sand, water and flowers lol (I guess that was the youth in me). Like a lot of other kids, I couldn't wait to grow up in so many ways and yet in some ways I wasn't prepared to give up my youth. Now the future I dreamt of so many times is finally here, I look back and wish I spent more time being a kid. I can't entirely say my youth was wasted because I did a lot of silly things a young child is expected to do, but I also took myself waaaay too seriously. Especially in secondary school. While most girls wanted to have a reputation for being the "hardest babe" in school or the one who has gone out with the most guys e.t.c., I simply had no interest in such frivolities. I have always been very adept at doing the right thing at the right time, not necessarily thinking the right things at the right time BUT at least I maintained control over my actions and this is something the youth of today lack.

Given the amount of information we are clogged with on any given day, thanks to the internet, I am not surprised that today's youth know a little more than they should or can handle. So the fact they appear to be spiralling out of control shouldn't come as a shock. We have blamed parents, broken homes, weak school systems, the government, God and technology in our bid to justify the disappointment that is today's youth but why aren't we blaming them? We have all been young once upon a time and yes we thought we had seen the worst, but innovation has meant the worst of the worst is yet to come so the problem isn't entirely in the amount of exposure the youth of today have. It is also in their character. The other day, I read about Kimberly Walsh (Girls Aloud), who revealed she had only had two lovers (a.k.a.sexual partners) and immediately rushed to read the comments following her revelation. Judging by the comments, I could sense that a lot of young people do not read the Daily Mail and secondly, a lot of parents were happy to have one positive story out of celebdom, to share with their kids whom I can be certain would mostly reply "So what? She is no Cheryl Cole that would explain the lack of interest from men. Besides how uncool is she......just two boyfriends her entire life. How boring?" Sad but this was the reply I got from a  young person when I shared this piece of information with her. Interestingly, there is a follow up article on Kimberly's story this morning, with the writer putting Kimberly's lack of promiscuity down to her luck, rather than morality. Saying she has been incredibly fortunate to find two good men she has stuck with (personally I disagree with this). Morality is not inherently conditional. Besides if the first man was wholly good, a one-man woman like Kimberly wouldn't have needed a number two (duh!).

Having younger siblings has also been an eye opener. I have heard so many stories that make me worry deeply for my unborn children. Stories of young girls aged 16 to about 21, owning sex toys and declaring it proudly on Twitter, having multiple sexual partners a la Samantha Sex and the City (she is a fictional character for goodness sakes!), holding orgy sessions in 5* hotels, paying younger boys to spend "quality time" with them when their boyfriends are unavailable and all other kinds of craziness that I don't even feel comfortable typing. The guys aren't any better, with boys as young as 8 smoking and binge drinking, walking around with pitbulls (and their signature oversize Adidas tracksuits), beating each other up and innocent passersby for no reason and of course the credit card fraudsters trying to live like the Hip Hop stars they idolise.

I may have been boring for not ever having a boyfriend until I went to uni, for not ever smoking or drinking heavily (or just generally being badly behaved), BUT I'm glad that for all the times I wanted to grow up fast, it was for the right reasons like being accomplished. Thanks to strict parents and being level headed, I enjoyed and am still enjoying my youth!

80's mania!!!

As an extremely proud 80's baby, I've got to say I am enjoying the attention this decade is getting from fashion, food, music and film at the moment. I mean, we've had Karate Kid (1984), The A-team (80's TV show) and Predators (1987) all of which I saw at the time but was certainly too young to understand (bless). Fashion wise, aside from the 20's flapper-esque era and the late 50s / early 60's Jackie O era, I also love the 80's punk fashion scene for their leggings, leg warmers, shoulder pads, pastel colours, Ray Ban sunnies and denim jackets which we all seem to be fiercely rocking this summer. However, my greatest 80's love is the music! Think about it, the decade birthed MTV (1981), which show cased music videos from the likes of Aerosmith, Madonna, Michael Jackson, Prince, Phil Collins, Lionel Richie, Queen, Duran Duran, Bon Jovi and New Kids on the Block to name a few.

Given the great socio-economic similarities between the 80's (a.k.a decade of greed which saw increased spending on luxuries and conveniences) and this current decade, perhaps it isn't a coincidence that we are currently witnessing what I like to call "80's mania". Now for a trip down memory lane, anyone remember this track? (luv it!).

Grrrrrr!

On days like these, I have nothing but admiration for the brave people who go to whatever dark lengths, to secure anything else but the dreaded Nigerian passport! Having just spent the last 2 hours prowling the over 20 pages long Tier 4 Visa application form, I can assure you that the Nigerian passport is a certified pile of shite! Yes, I am angry and frustrated because unlike a lot of other people who would be resuming business school in September, I am stranded in London (I know we are having a peculiarly hot summer but I want a vacation gaddemit!), staycations are soooo summer '09. Worse still, I have to spend my precious time filling in this cursed form that makes stupid demands for things like my blaaady birth certificate (the cheek!).

Aside from better chances of securing a place at a top ranked UK university, thanks to your coveted international fees, I struggle to find any other great joy of having the Nigerian passport. Its dirty green colour certainly borders on offensive, at least in comparison to the British burgundy or American navy blue. The fact you have to apply for a Schengen visa (nightmare!) just to travel within Europe is retarded (someone needs to sort this out). What exactly are the perks of being a Commonwealth nation?

Even though I've never quite had any dramatic experiences with immigration officers, I am not entirely unaware of the one too many questions they tend to ask you because of your questionable nationality. Or the way they make you wait for all the EU/UK/US passport holders to pass through, before attending to you as they do in some Greek and French airports. Yes we don't have it as bad as some other countries like Pakistan, but I really detest my passport sometimes and even though I am a VERY proud Nigerian at heart, I am not such a proud one when it comes to carrying my passport around. I confess, I have several passport covers which I deploy for specific trips; the simple black cover is for business trips, the vibrant orange cover is for group holidays with my girls and the dark brown leather (European Union labelled) cover is for solo trips (a bit extreme I know lol!).

There is also the cost and stress of renewing your million and one visas. Securing a Schengen visa is the definition of cumbersome. Where possible, do yourself a favour, use an agency! Otherwise get organised and plan well ahead of your trip (trust me I learnt the hard way). While US embassy trips are just a right pain in the backside (lets not even get into the over the top security checks.....Americans and their "oversabi"  (translation: know it all). And lets not forget how it stifles your productivity at work, as you can't just up and go on an unexpcted business trip because you need a visa or the one you already have needs renewal grrrr (I almost missed a very important business trip to NY a few years ago thanks to this).

For whatever sins I may have committed in my past life, I have been cursed with a Nigerian passport in this one and I can't wait to get my hands on my British passport (fondly called "the red" by we green passport holders). Yes I said it!

P.S. Anyone want to help me complete my form? I pay good money......

Bag it up!

I love bags almost as much as I love shoes so when my friend showed me her collection of beautifully crafted leather hand bags, I had to buy one and put her on blast, Scribblediva style.

I could only upload a few pictures but she has several more (at very affordable prices ;-)). For more details, hit her up on: olatoun.adeyemo@gmail.com. Happy viewing!

 

 

Love...

Everyone needs to watch Not Easily Broken, at least once or twice (it made more sense the second time). Whenever I do a blog post, I usually start off figuring out the title, then I build up the body of my post from it. But today, I struggled to find an appropriate title for this post as I was torn between Not Easily Broken (the inspiration for this post), Pride comes before a fall or just good ol' Rant. However as the movie came to a beautiful end, I had no doubt in my mind that Love was the way to go. I have no intentions of writing a synopsis of this film because I am trying my best to write shorter posts BUT I do want to pick up on certain aspects of the film. Ever since my post about Stepford Wives and basically what roles society expects women to play in marriages, with a hint of what is expected from men too, some people came back asking for more. Frankly I told them I didn't want to drag the post as I am not well versed in the area (seeing as I ain't married). However, watching this film, I think I have a more informed opinion about the roles of a man and woman in the institution of marriage (or relationships).

Despite the weak reviews, I thoroughly enjoyed this film which had Morris Chestnut and Taraji P. Henson deliver what could possibly be the best performances of their careers. The moment I knew I was going to do a post about this film was when Morris (David) said, "When God made Adam, He instructed Him to do 3 things: work, cultivate and protect. Down through history, men have always been measured by how hard they've worked and cultivated, by how well they've protected their families. In the old days women saw their men as conquerors, providers and heroes but somewhere along the line, something changed and women started to become their own heroes. Maybe it is because men forgot how to be men or maybe because women didn't want to be protected anymore or maybe because of the pain women had to endure in life. But whatever the cause, the world took away a man's reasons for being a man. They told him he wasn't important anymore and when that happened, they turned the whole world upside down."

Hearing this from a man was refreshing, maybe because I've spent considerable amount of time with friends (guys and girls), trying to understand what has gone wrong with the institution of marriage (or relationships even), especially in the black community. In my opinion, it seems along with the equal rights movement, women forgot how to remain loving whilst being ambitious, and men never learnt to adjust and love a woman who could serve more as a partner than a subordinate. In everything he said, it is clear that there has been a serious miscommunication as a result of pride or a lack of love (not entirely sure), but women certainly do not want to be their own heroes (at least not ALL the time); and no matter how great an all girls night out maybe or how satisfying a job is, there is no greater pleasure than that of being with a man (a good man, just the way God intended). Yes feminists (and a well rested me 8 hours from now), will probably shoot me for saying this BUT it is the truth. Of course we don't all sit around bonfires chanting and willing good men into our lives but no straight woman can boldly say men are entirely unimportant. Even though those of us who have men (not necessarily good ones but potentially good), sometimes end up emasculating them with our constant nagging, lack of affection and discouragement because we have bought a bit too much into the Independent Woman hype and think we are better off on our own (not healthy!).

Moving on, later in the film another problem was revealed, men (black men especially), have made us believe every problem in a relationship is 95% physical (perhaps it is easier for most men to admit to being attracted to another woman than to say they are emotionally dependent on her....something about emotions just makes men uneasy). Guys! You need to be able to open up those communication lines no matter how squirmy. Yes it is socially acceptable for women to say "we need to talk" but trust me, we don't particularly enjoy uttering those words. Building up on this, Taraji's mum (brilliantly played by Jenifer Lewis), dropped a profound line "Black women have to be strong". To which Taraji replied: "In all the lessons you taught me about how I need to be strong and independent, you left out one important thing, how to love, forgive and how to really care for somebody else" (deep!). Our men cherish our strength, it is one of the most attractive qualities of a black woman. Sadly, our focus on being strong has distracted us from an even sweeter part of what being a woman means, love and affection. Perhaps our history and culture has meant we struggle with emotions as a race and usually view it as a sign of weakness, BUT love is not an adjective or a noun, it is a verb. I may be clutching at straws here as I haven't done as much research on this as I would've liked to but it is my belief that men like to be needed especially emotionally and physically. If they feel dispensable in these two main areas, anything/anyone that fills that void automatically becomes the object of their affection. All I'm trying to say is if we are to cut divorce rates and broken relationships, men and women need to learn to start loving more, no matter how challenging.  After all, love is long suffering (1 Corinthians 13:1-13). Easier said than done I know, but with God, ALL things are possible (Matthew 19:26). As D'banj famously sang, "love is a beautiful thing"....g'nite London! xx

Bubbly bubbly

There is something very hedonistic but rare (let's be honest), about having a great night out in a swanky club, especially in London or New York. By definition, a swanky club is one that is posh, exclusive and pretentious at best (I just described every club in West London...the horror). In London, swanky clubs may sometimes throw in RnB and HipHop (especially since Funky House took over) as a bonus on Saturday nights in particular (lucky us....not!) and you are required to get a table and spend a certain minimum to endeavour you get in, especially if you are not their average looking clientele (i.e. footballer, investment banker or broker, celebrity or aspiring model). So yes, a lot of us just sit around and wait for the party throwers to hire out these clubs and get their own DJ (almost always Bayo or Xclusive), to give us what we call a good night a.k.a. no fuss entry (of course your standard £20 goes at the door), VIP tables (at none VIP prices), sickkk music all night long (woohoo!), familiar faces (thanks to Facebook) and a possible 4am finish.

As we are all getting a little bit older by the second, going to these predominantly juvie fests is fast becoming a big NO NO so yes nowadays I tend to just hit birthdays and do the odd nights out with friends. Few weeks ago, a very good male friend of mine and I hit Taman Gang on a random Friday night and yes the intention was to get tipsy and pretend the techno tunes were the next best thing since Rude Boy lol. Thankfully, Iyaz (dude behind the hit single Replay) was in the building and my friend has very close relations with the club, so we had one of those rare great London nights of a solid 30 minutes or so of good music and no fuss entry (nice!), oh and of course we got a little help from our nectar friends, downing quite a few Amaretto cocktails. So last night when my friend suggested we hit another swanky club, Merah Club (former Crystal) for a mate's birthday, I wasn't completely dis-interested. Thankfully we had a wild night!

Firstly, you must understand that my love for dancing means I only ever go out to drop it low, so of course, the idea of going to a club to sit still and look pretty is equivalent to watching paint dry. I'd rather stay in with my girlfriends, with a good movie and even better alcohol (yes I drink but only in moderation lol.....yah!). So anyhoo when it comes to clubbing, I tend to avoid the pretentious scene especially as you are almost always guaranteed rhythm-less music, although now the game is slowly but surely changing. So last night was a pleasant surprise especially as I was very sober all night lol (just wasn't up for getting smashed). Merah rocked 'arrrrd for a lot of reasons: 

1. The bubbly flow was tasteful. For obvious reasons, a lot of swanky clubs believe too much in the bubbly phenomenon a.k.a. pop champagne which could sometimes border on tacky especially when you throw in way too many sparklers (okay dripping with Cristal while dancing to "Say Aah" is fun only if it's really your birthday lol). As Aristotle famously said, "seek moderation in all things."

2. The people! Everyone was trendy as expected, verrrry good looking, friendly and up to no good lol. It was a sight to behold. At one point, I actually took an odd moment out to suck it all in. People from all races, ages and walks of life, just having a great time partying. It was awesome and I felt very at home, just my kind of scene. Enough preppy-ness without the aloofness.

3. The music was surprisingly HOT! It started off a bit slow considering we were met by a solid one hour techno session (with a hint of funky house) but then the DJ switched up his game and before I knew it, we were all standing on the sofa (tables for some too), throwing our hands in the air and basically shooting a potential Hip Hop video lol. It was a right laugh and the Russian looking dudes who had their table next to us joined in on the fun (lucky gits). I still have an ice pack on my feet and neck for trying out some dance stunts that seemed like such a good idea at the time lol.

All in all, Merah is a solid 8 out of 10. Next up, Maya in 2 weeks.....should be sore-free by then. I love London! ;-)

Disclaimer: I was bullied into doing this write up *you know who you are*

Four Weddings

Out of sheer boredom, I found myself taking the "Are you a bridezilla?" quiz on Living TV's website (don't ask! and yes at the time, I didn't even know what the term bridezilla meant). My close friends know I'm more of a watch-it-online kinda girl, something to do with the fact that I watched sooooo much telly at uni, my eyeballs literally went square (kidding lol). Truth is, some shows are simply better on telly and Four Weddings is without a doubt, one of them. As a young lady on the slightly darker side of 20 (i.e. over 24), like most other Nigerian girls my age, I've heard my mum and every other aunt or uncle, tell me the same thing for the last decade; "You are ripe for marriage, when are we coming to drink palm wine?" (major cringe!). Being a very odd person (based on what I've been told lol), I have never actually cared much for weddings i.e. the actual "gra gra" (translation: fuss) of the entire ceremony, like having a monthly subscription to bridal magazines with post-its on "potential wedding dresses" like some single women do (why torture yourself so???), or becoming a renowned wedding crasher just to keep abreast of latest wedding developments, such as who the hottest wedding planner or photographer in town is (lolll people actually do this and keep secret journals too). Having said all this, you can imagine my shock, when I realised I had watched SEVERAL episodes of what is fast becoming my TV Achilles, Four Weddings!!! (4W). It got so good I even attempted to watch Bulging Brides, a US reality TV show that tries to get foul eating brides into shape for their big day. I only lasted 5 minutes before I started counting sheep lol. What a pile of horse dung sheesh! Reality TV is generally retarded in my opinion, BUT 4W rocks! (well discounting the odd gay, naked or vampire themed wedding).

Watching the show and having my mum remind me EVERYDAY that she can't wait to dance to "Yori Yori" at my wedding lol (bless her), has definitely tugged at a nerve I didn't realise I had. It also doesn't help that it's wedding season in London and I absolutely love Yori Yori remix (now that is one song I can see myself dancing to at (dear I say it) my wedding.......eeek!). Thanks to my wedding phobia, I haven't actually given much thought to the practical side of things that could go so wrong at a wedding. Like having a guest arrive in a dress similar to yours but much better.....WHY?? Lol! Or What do you do about your friend's child that keeps making way too much noise at the most important parts of the day? (lolll pure evil!). But these are the sort of questions the quiz asked and things you get to see on 4W (luv it!). Apart from the superficial elements of a wedding, like wanting to look like a Barbie bride (still don't get this), having 10 different entertainers at your reception (why share the limelight hello!) and so many other random things that bridezillas insist on having at their weddings, there is a rather beautiful and emotional element of wedding ceremonies, especially the vows which I've sometimes teared up at (shame). The best moments in 4W include: watching the bride walk down the aisle with her father, the couple's first kiss, their first dance, the cultural weddings (so far I've witnessed a Turkish/Russian/Nigerian/Indian/Irish/English wedding) and seeing family and friends celebrating the union. Thanks to 4W, I can bravely say I'm slowly overcoming my phobia and best of all, the test revealed I am NO bridezilla (much to my amazement as bridezillas are blatantly control freaks that obsess about every little detail of their wedding.......sounds a lot like me in my every day life minus the wedding lol). My result said: Sensible and level-headed in adversity. Frankly, the world would be a better place if you were the one being elected Prime Minister next month. Hello Downing Street and umm wedding bells! *shy face*

To be, or Not to be.....

You spend endless days, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, mending clothes, ironing, gardening, watching day time TV, doing school runs, looking immaculate, hosting, socialising and dutifully catering to your husband and kids. You should feel proud, accomplished (as far as being a woman goes), content even, but some how you don't feel any of these emotions. Instead you feel dissatisfied, unappreciated, invisible and worst of all, trapped. Your kids always seem to have a never-ending batch of laundry for you to attend to, they ask why you don't go to work like James or Sarah's mum (whom they fondly refer to as superwoman), they much prefer the odd days you order a KFC Family bucket meal to the beautiful homecooked dinners you spend hours preparing and they hate that you are always all up in their business (what business?? lol). Then your husband expects you to be submissive and a real life version of the women portrayed in the movie, The Stepford Wives (based on a satirical thriller novel by Ira Levin, set in the fictional suburb of Stepford, Connecticut). All these demands, combined with your need to maintain some kind of control over the only part of your life you feel your input matters, the efficient running of your home, leaves you undeniably disgruntled and yet you are amazed by the positive life changing results of Channel 5's documentary, Obedient Wives which basically glorifies your every day life.  

As I handed in my security card on my last day at work just a few weeks ago (ahead of business school in September......since a LOT of people are asking lol), I was dizzy with glee at the prospect of guilt-free late nights doing absolutely nothing productive, attending to things I never quite had the time to do, like live my life lol. But I never quite knew my free time would be spent mentally drawing up grocery shopping lists, doing house chores (no thanks to my severe case of OCD) and just generally morphing into a modern day Stepford Wife. Admittedly, my friends and I have discussed in detail over the years about the ideal marriage situation (i.e. to be a housewife or a working mum) and I always swayed more to the housewife school of thought, but over the last few weeks, I can tell you, both are equally demanding. Some women manage to seamlessly run their homes and maintain ambitious careers, but in my opinion, they either get a LOT of help or eventually suffer from a premature midlife crisis. In the Channel 5 show which put the Surrendered Wives movement (based on the idea that men can't change, so women need a radical re-think in order to preserve romance in marriages........a woman wrote this ish!) on the map, women were asked: 'Which do I want more: to have control of every situation or to have an intimate marriage?'  (who said the world doesn't revolve around men??)

Furthermore, it was established that career women find it very hard to come home and be feminine, loving and soft and caring - they just come home with this boss attitude instead (hmm I concur), concluding that for women who wanted to have it all (i.e. happy marriage and successful career), the quote "You catch more flies with honey, not vinegar", holds true. So I asked my male friends for their opinion and in a bid to seem modern and open, they all attempted to describe their ideal marriage situation but the not-so-shocking truth was, they all ended up describing a woman that didn't look much different to a 1950's Stepford Wife or the 2000's Surrendered Wife. The bottom line is men want to be served and admired by their wives, but what do we want? Well judging by all the conversations I've held with my girlfriends over the years, women generally want to be provided for. So why can't we all get on with it and drop the labels (career woman/StepfordWife/Surrendered Wife and whatever else). Besides as noted on http://www.stepfordwives.org/, to serve a man is not a cookbook, it's a pleasure! (Amen to that lol!)

Yummy!

I am having one of those weeks where all I think about is my next meal lol. It is so bad that on any given day, I can't actually keep count of all I've consumed because all I do is munch, munch, munch. Even more disturbing, people keep asking me where it all goes. At first I tend to say nothing but when they say "No, seriously, where does it go?" I usually feel inclined to say "ummm my head" luckily that answer seems to do the trick but when it doesn't I just ask "Hey are you gonna have that last piece of chicken or can we share it?" Then they just shake their heads in awe and wander off.....result!

The best thing about living in Maida Vale is its food scene (yes I'm allowed to say that). Obviously it is a lovely residential area, certainly posh at best, well endorsed by celebs (Kate Moss lives nearby in slightly more uppity St John's Wood, Jude Law is a neighbour and I've run into him and Vernon Kay at my local corner shop and pub......my claim to fame hoorah! lol) BUT we have great scenery thanks to Little Venice and greater eateries such as Raoul's, Thai Rice, Cafe Rouge, Cafe Laville, Idle Wild (and all the restaurants in nearby Paddington basin).

As I said in an earlier blog post, I don't entirely love slaving away in the kitchen so yes a lot of my munch sessions tend to happen outside my home (shame). Over the last few years, I've only ever frequented Raoul's to pick up my Lola's Kitchen Cupcakes but yesterday, my sister and I decided to give brunch a go and boy were we pleased! The service was efficient, food superb! (lurrrrrrrrrrrrrved my golden yellow Italian scrambled eggs) and the ambience was just as you would expect.......our fellow feasters were a bit rah-rah (fine by me) and the walls were nicely decorated with retro pictures of the likes of Grace Jones (topless.....not as scary as you would imagine). All in all a delightful experience :-)

West End Girl

Unlike a lot of other great cities, London is pretty compact and rather easy to navigate (in my great opinion lol). On a serious note, as long as you speak a decent amount of Anglais, don't look like your average tourist (Londoners hate tourists and for good reason lol), have a bright smile and own an oyster card, you are good to go! Fortunately for me, I have always been a West End girl and frankly, everything happens in my part of town :-) (yaaaaaay!). I am no property specialist so no this post isn't about the joys of living in my endz (as they say in East "Laaandan"), no no. The West End is London's answer to New York's Broadway, perhaps cheaper too (minus the world-class talent as our hotel concierge on my last visit to NY rudely pointed out...hater lol). It is the centre of London, an ideal tourist spot and Europe's largest shopping district (so you know why I'm hardly ever at home lol). Given my love for theatre, I have been to see a number of plays in my time, especially as my friend's brother is a RADA graduate and regularly stars in some hit productions.

This year alone, I have experienced the frustrations of Walter Lee Young (Raisin in the Sun), brilliantly played by Ray Feron (hottie!) at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester. Prior to seeing this flawless remake of the 1950's play (the first to be written by a black woman and produced on Broadway), I had my first theatric shriek as an obviously bipolar "Paul" in Six Degrees of Separation at the Old Vic Theatre, portrayed with great skill by Obi Abili, is seen butt naked on stage (full frontal!!!), when he's caught sleeping with another man, by his Manhattan-ite hosts (eeeeek!!!). John Guare's 1990 play partially based on the life of David Hampton who posed as actor Sidney Poitier’s son and managed to charm his way into the world of rich New York liberals such as Calvin Klien, Melanie Griffiths (disturbing no), went down a spooky treat. Shortly after that, my eyes were assaulted once again by another butt naked viewing of Asher D, in Bola Agbaje's Off the Endz at the Royal Court Theatre. Personally, the scene was unnecessary but Asher has got a tight bod! (so yes I managed a squeal then gasp before promptly changing my blackberry status lol). I was somewhat disappointed by this because Bola's earlier work (Gone Too Far, 2008) was beautifully written but this seemed to have a neither here nor there message. Granted it was a modern take on immorality in the black community and the idea that a lot of black people are deluded (I think Hip Hop videos should take responsibility for this lol). My friends also felt it was rather dark and hopeless with all the characters involved having a rather bitter end (well truth hurts!).

Following this, we sort of had a theatre drought and then another great play came along, Ruined, at the Almeida Theatre. Just like Raisin in the Sun, my friend's brother also starred in this excellently cast play ( a very strong contender for my best theatre experience), set in a small mining town deep in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Mama Nadi (flawlessly played by Jenny Jules, Naomi Campbell's BF), brought tears to the eyes of everyone, as we sat through the last showing of a rather emotional, comical and violent portrayal of the ultimate test of humanity (love, hate, race, pleasure and shelter), in a civil war with no end in sight (very deep!). At the end, I chatted with Jude Akwudike (Chief Adeyemi in Iya Ile) who told me to be on the look out for a follow up play (you heard it here first!), while my friend's bro introduced us to the amazing cast who gave us palm wine! I love theatre!!!

So yesterday, after an exhausting 2 hour drive made worse by unexpected torrential rain (although weather forecasts said to expect mild showers.....as if!), my fellow theatre loving friend informed me of a play happening just a few minutes away from me titled Another Biafra. Thankfully the sun found itself and my sister was up for it, so we hopped into a cab and arrived at the Cockpit Theatre, a very easy to miss theatre just off Church Street. As it was the play's final showing, literally everyone (by which I mean London's glitterati) came to show support. Sitting with my friend and a bunch of other girls of Biafran heritage, the excitement was uncontainable and we soon found ourselves attempting to speak "Igbo" which didn't sound as good as it felt lol. However we were in for a shocker as the thought provoking play by Anthony Abuah focused on what he says is the "New Biafra", that is, the ongoing conflict in the Niger-Delta as a result of the lack of sustainable natural gas extraction procedures by international oil companies like Shell. Undeniably low budget but superbly resourceful and educative, this play probed the very core of my conscience and highlighted my severe lack of knowledge about the socio-political state of things in the region. We laughed, we gasped, we sneered, we sang along, we came close to tears, we were shocked and best of all, we were inspired. It was a nostalgic play that still managed to take on board the ever present perspective of the foreign media (British media in particular). A heart wrenching performance from the talented Anthony Abuah as Apori (whom I hope to see in the future) supported by a brilliant cast (notably Stephen Mcleod as journalist Eric Roberts, Onoriode Ujorha as Mr President (hilarious!!!) and Marlene Nwoye as Uwa, the long suffering wife) kept us engaged from start to finish. Pity it only ran for three days. Wonder what great play or musical I'll be seeing soon........