The End

This post, my three hundredth post on this blog will be my last one.

When I first started this blog, I was alone in London. I had no one, no one to talk to and this was my escape - my way to connect with the people I had left behind. And more importantly, it was my place to express the things I was thinking and feeling, a place where I could tell my truth.

Over the last two years, this space has become so much more than what it started as. It has been my coping mechanism, my outlet. It has made me new friends. It has brought me advice from completely neutral parties when I have needed it. It has brought me hope.

Last week something happened in my life, something that I know has changed me fundamentally, something that I know will continue to change me and the way I see the world. I was feeling so many things - confusion, anger, despair, overwhelmed-ness and I tried to express what I was feeling the people who are closest to me, which was a complete waste of time. I felt, alone and there was one place I wanted to come - here.

I am so much clearer here. I make sense here. People finally seem to understand that I am serious when I come here. And then I realised that I could never tell the whole truth here, that because I am not anonymous because people, especially people from Trinidad know who I am, I would have to be careful, that every thing would have to be guarded, that I could not be completely honest. I realised that this place is no longer my refuge, it is no longer my space.

It is a controlled environment, controlled by the readers and not by me. I have to worry about people who will take things the wrong way, people who will misinterpret and misunderstand both intentionally and unintentionally, people who will report the contents to others, people who will get upset, people who will worry, people who will send me messages asking me to take things down, people who will ask me how I could write the things that I write, people who want to dictate to me what my truth is - TOO MANY PEOPLE.

To all of those who have watched my journey and my progress while wishing me well, I have one final wish -
Thank you so much for being here. Best of luck Live long and prosper...

At Long Last ...

I Have My Ring....




Aint it Beeeeyouuuuuuutifullllllllllllll

Overheard

I was on the 82 bus heading in to Central London when a group of five (5) young women, looking very professional in their work uniforms with the badges of the hotel chain they worked for prominently displayed entered and sat in the four (4) seats in front of me.

The two (2) furthest forward turned slightly so they were facing the others in order to continue a very loud conversation about their fabulous weekend. Apparently one of them went clubbing over the weekend and got “pissed”, "pulled" *surprise, surprise* and ended up leaving with this “hot German” who was in London for a week.

So they shagged it up *surprise, surprise* and then when she woke up in the morning she was terribly hungover and disoriented, all she could make out was that she was somewhere familiar. So she woke up the German guy and asked him his name (because she forgot) and where they were.

As it turned out they were in a room at the branch of the hotel THAT SHE WORKED AT.

She started to panic. She was worried that what she had done was a “sackable offence”. She wanted to leave with anyone seeing her so she made German dude call the desk and find out who was on shift (and therefore how much trouble she would potentially be in if someone saw) before she showered and left.

So she cleaned up and with the aid of her huge Victoria Beckham shades and a hat she stole from dude she made it out safely, or so she thought…

She came in to work on Monday and all the security guards were pointing at her and laughing. She’s really worried because she’s not sure what she did or what they saw or what exactly they are laughing at.

Her friends are in peals of laughter, asking questions like “How did you not recognize the hotel from the front when you saw it?” (Answer – “It was dark”); “But what about the lobby?” (Answer – “I was pissed”); “Was there anyone at the desk?”(Answer – “I don’t know”); “What was the guy’s name?” (Answer – “I can’t remember”)

The hilarity continues because that’s life in London.

But I was not impressed. She disgusted me, sleeping with a random stranger on a night out on the town. all I could think was “You filthy, filthy slag. You deserve to get sacked”

And that’s how I know I’m still Trini.

Morals intact.

Strokes of Mixed Luck

My cousin is here!!!!!!!!! Tomorrow, begins her month of training to take over my job (so that I can start my new one in August). This weekend was one of the best weekends I have in a loooooooong time in London, despite MyPrince being back in Trinidad. We went shopping, we had girly talks, we watched TV, we cooked, we were silly. It is just wonderful having a proper friend here. I really missed that, more than I would even admit.

The Save-The-Dates for our wedding went out last week and I'm already having people saying they can't make it, which is affecting me more than I thought it would, even though I knew that not everyone would be able to come. Sadly, TNLBF is one of those who won't be able to make it. He text me to let me know and I was really sad, even though we're not that close any more. I just assumed that he would be there, like it hadn't even occurred to me that he would be one of those people who wouldn't be able to make it. But it prepared me, because I know I will have other disappointments like this coming my way and I need to learn to deal and get over it.

The whole Save-The-Date experience was a mixed one for me. When I was doing my side of the guest list I was happy and excited. But then it came time for me to do ThePrince's. He had a part draft, no last names in most of the cases, and so he had to call his mom to finalise it but he kept delaying and procrastinating. I was getting really angry and frustrated because he needed to take the Save-The-Dates back with him when he was leaving. Eventually he made the call and I understood why he was so reticent.

Now my man is very calm. He almost never raises his voice. He walks away from arguments. He does not like discord. It unsettles him. I have never heard him as frustrated/angry as he was during that call. It will take me too long to get into all the things she said in detail (this was a two hour phone call) so I will summarise:

• Our wedding is so posh it alienates his family
• She doesn't understand why the wedding has to be in Tobago
• Save-The-Dates are pointless and she never heard of them
• We need to pay for his family to get from Trinidad to Tobago
• We need to provide rooms (plural) for them to get changed and relaxed in before the wedding
• If we don't provide passage and lodging we should not expect that any of his family will come

I have never been prouder of my baby than I was during that phone call. While he did shout a little, it was justified and he managed to get his points across. Mainly:

• We're having a small wedding with no registry. How is that posh?
• We want something small and intimate so we're having it in Tobago at a place where there is a set maximum number of guests for crowd control
• The Save-The-Dates are necessary because the wedding is not in Trinidad and we need to give people the heads-up to make arrangements
• If the wedding was in Trinidad we would not be paying for people's transport so why should we have to pay because it's in Tobago. And again, we have no registry so people can use that money to pay the $50TT return boat fare over and the hotel fees or the $300TT without hotel fees if they want to return on the same day
• We'll provide A (singular) room for people who aren't overnighting to get changed (Possibly 2 rooms maximum and no one will be allowed to spend the night in them if they think that's what's going to happen)
• We are inviting the people who we would like to be there. If they choose not to come, there's nothing we can do about that. It will help us cut costs.

He stood up for me, for us, against his mother. You probably don't understand but that was momentous, a landmark moment in our relationship. I think I fell in love with him all over again.

And when it was over, I just held him. We stayed in the same spot for an hour before falling asleep. Just drained. And I think he was a little hurt as well. It's hard for him when we look at our families side by side. No one in my family is complaining. Even the people who aren't that well off are saving to be able to make it. Everyone's really being positive and excited, and you can tell that he wants it to be like that on his side as well. He says the difference is that I am the golden girl of my family but he is the black sheep who did well for himself despite everyone's predictions. I think the difference is something else but I shouldn't put it into print and can't do it anyway without using profanity.

This is why marriage was only meant to be done once. Who could take this kind of stress twice? Sometimes I just want this wedding to be over so that we can tell everyone to bugger off and focus on our marriage. We should have gone to Gretna...

La La La La La, The Boys Are Waiting

One of the things I missed most when I was in Phoenix is "Street Dance" class, the only class I make it my BUSINESS to attend weekly at the gym.

Normally I don't even like classes. I just want to work out alone. I don't want people standing really close to me, heaving and sweating and dripping and breathing my air. But I make an exception for "Street Dance" because it combines a fake work out, entertainment and amusement all in one compact hour.

I see the people who go to this class normally in the gym during the course of the week in normal attire (yoga pants and a top, tights and a T-shirt). I see them in street clothes after they shower. They look normal, like what people who live in our area look like - preppy and well-dressed and middle class. But these same people arrive at "Street Dance" in baggy pants on their hips, tight tops cut to show off their tummies and bandannas on their heads. I know the day will come when one of them arrives with their hair braided.

It cracks me up every week and is, in fact what attracted me to the class in the first place. Because, kill them dead, they're gangsta - the most pasty, vanilla, whitest of white people popping and locking, booty shaking and getting their groove on with all the attitude in the world. Sometimes I am trying so hard to hold my laughter in I can barely do the moves myself. Days later I remember something from class or something someone was wearing or someone's face when dancing at home or at work and collapse into fits of laughter where I can barely breathe.

Every 3 months or so a new routine is unleashed slowly. Every week you build on what was learnt the week before until you know the dance for the entire song. Right now the song is "Milkshake" by Kelis.

And I LOVE THAT SONG NOW. I LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LOVE IT!!!!!!!!! And for the first time I get the attraction to "Street Dance" it's forbidden, it's something you wouldn't normally do - get seductive, wiggle your hips, smack your ass, lick your finger while looking at yourself in the mirror, walk forward oozing sex. That is one hotttttttt dance. It's an outlet. It makes you feel sexy and cool. I don't even have to do the moves to feel it now, even though I find myself doing them all the time, or picturing myself doing them. I downloaded the song, I listen to it multiple times a day, I hum it, I text the lyrics of the song to my friends when it's in my head. I am a woman obsessed.

When that song first came out and I heard it, I would steups mentally. I thought it was crap. Now I'm addicted. I am not even really sure what it means. I watched the video 10 million times and I still don't know what the milkshake actually is. Is it the boobs or the butt? Is it a dance? And what does she mean by "Warm it Up". Warm what up? The milk? How do you warm it up? And how do you "maintain your halo"

But that cowbell (*ping* at the end of every other line) makes me feral and I like it ...

Hell, my milkshake DOES bring all the boys to the yard and they're like, it's better than yours. DAMN RIGHT, IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS. I could teach you but I'd have to charge.

And my favourite line - "Watch if you're smart"

Back in Ldn

I am back in London.

My last few days in Arizona were spent doing what I love best - minor shopping; lying in bed, sleeping, waking up late and generally lazing around; relaxing in the pool; eating; watching TV and pampering myself.

I am fully relaxed now but my body clock is out of whack because here I am wide awake at 2:00a.m. (maybe because it's only 6:00p.m. in AZ)

The best thing about going away is coming back home to MyPrince. I missed him so much. Being away from him helps me appreciate the everyday things like hugs and kisses; hand holding and hand squeezing; "I love you"s; cuddles; someone to hold my bags and talk to about any and everything. I am reminded how much he is my other half and how much I am used to, and love him being around.

He is sound asleep, snoring right next to me, looking super adorable. Exhausted because he can't sleep when I'm not around so he's basically been sleep walking the last week without me.

My wedding dress is hanging in the bedroom. He looked at the bag and told me that he couldn't wait, that he was so excited for our wedding, to see the dress, to see me, to see me in the dress.

I am starting to feel excited too, the quivers in my tummy. I keep yearning to try on my blusher (tiny veil) every second. I found myself going into the bathroom, locking the door, pinning it in my hair and pulling it over my face, like a woman possessed. I know I will never get tired of that so I made him put the bag of accessories far far away where I can't reach it.

It's like all of a sudden it hit me. I am going to be a bride. I am getting married to the man who is lying next to me. I am happy, and I will continue to be happy... We will continue to be happy TOGETHER

I Have Found My Dress - THE Dress

Sometimes I think I am not cut out for bride-dom. I've stopped reading wedding webistes and forums because those brides make me feel so inadequate, like something is wrong with me because my wedding is not at the forefront of my mind every second of the day and I'm not constantly planning and checking. And it's not that I am not excited, but I am excited about my marriage and not about my wedding, if that makes any sense. I think I have done what should be done at this point without thinking and obsessing about it every day. It's just not necessary to me. I hadn't even done much thinking about my dress, much to the disappointment of PoshBankGirlFriend.

But yesterday I spent almost the entire day in David's Bridal looking at wedding dresses. I was just going to look but then I put a dress on and looked at myself in the mirror...

I had specific criteria for my wedding dress:

• No colour other than white
• No styles other than strapless
• No veils or mantillas
• No train
• No bows
• No meringues
• No pleats
• No can-cans
• No flowers
• No lace
• No beads
• No gathers
• No ruffles
• Nothing poufy

The dress that I fell in love with was one I didn't even want to try on. It is cream (not white), goes with a petticoat (the thing that makes it stick out which is essentially a can-can) so it's a little poufy, has a small train, is pleated/gathered at the mid-section, is a halter and not a strapless, has a flower and while it doesn't come with a veil, I have purchased a mini-veil or blusher. So there you go, my perfect dress is everything I never wanted in a dress, but I put it on and felt like a million dollars, no a million pounds sterling. It was made for me. I bought it.

I was so nervous on the morning that we were about to go to the store - worried about my un-brideliness, that I wouldn't see any dress that I liked, that nothing would fit well, that even though my groom reassured me that on our wedding day I would be the most beautiful girl in the world - I would fall short of the goal. I was tearful because I didn't feel like a "normal" bride because I had not, prior to then, been operating as one. I was just worried, even though I had tried on her wedding dress the night before and it fit like a glove and I looked magical.

And so Tori was the perfect person for me to go with. She was very calming. She knew I was nervous, we had a mantra. She kept repeating things like "We are only looking for a dress. If we do not find anything you like we'll go to another store. There will be lots of people there because it's June, but if you feel uncomfortable we can always go to another store, a smaller store. If you don't want to go today and you want to reschedule we can. Ignore the other brides. I won't leave your side"

And believe me, I needed to be handled with kid gloves and I needed her not to leave my side - and not only because those dresses and undergarments are hell to get into. Then I tried on my first dress. I felt like a bride, I looked like I bride. I found my inner brideliness. From then on, I stepped with confidence into every dress (and believe me, some were hideous). Until I tried THAT dress on. Then I knew I didn't need to try on anything else.

I always thought that was a myth, that when you found the right dress you would FEEL it, KNOW it in your bones. But believe me, that is a truth.

I am grateful that I didn't have a dress made just frm picking a pattern in a book and I got to see it on myself, along with other dresses, first. And I am grateful to Tori, for getting me gently to the store, being honest about the dresses I tried on without being hurtful, and for knowing that that dress would suit me, choosing it and getting me to try it on, because it wasn't even one I had picked myself. And I am grateful that I found my dress ... after all

Oh so - you want to know what the dress looks like? You've gotta wait until the wedding day ...