Musings of a Trini in London

The End

2008-07-13T15:34:00.004+01:00

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 ...

2008-07-09T12:06:00.004+01:00

I Have My Ring....

Aint it Beeeeyouuuuuuutifullllllllllllll

Overheard

2008-07-02T17:15:00.002+01:00

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

2008-06-29T22:41:00.005+01:00

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

2008-06-25T09:30:00.006+01:00

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

2008-06-22T02:04:00.005+01:00

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

2008-06-18T19:21:00.005+01:00

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 ...

Arizona Update 1

2008-06-17T01:22:00.005+01:00

Arizona is as hot as hell. Tori did warn me, but still I was unprepared. On Sunday it was 113F (45F). This place does not get cool EVER. It's hot at 9:30 p.m. and this morning at 7:30a.m. it was already 90F (30C).

I have never been anywhere this hot in my life. Even Trinidad, in the Caribbean doesn't get this hot. And I am just toasted. I think I'll be 10 shades darker by the time I get home.

Anyway I am grateful for many things:

Air-conditioning (in the car and in the house)
Powerful showers
The swimming pool (and the hot weather means I can swim even at 9:00p.m.)
A $2US to £1 Exchange Rate
Shopping - I exercised my plastic well today (JC Penney, Marshall's, ROSS etc.)
The softest bed ever created
A 10 min pressure point massage
Wonderful Mexican food that I do not have to make myself.
A wonderful hostess (Tori who I'm staying with has soul. She must be part black because she is the blackest white girl I know. She knows all the rap songs on the radio and has a mouth on her like a sailor but at the same time she is so considerate that it's almost as if she is on edge worrying about whether or not I'm happy. It's nice to be "mothered", I'm secretly loving every minute of it)
A Chinese Food Mart Tori took me to today where I found Crix, green seasoning, pepper sauce and even Peardrax. Quite inexpensively too!!!! Who woulda thunk that I would have come all the way to Arizona to get Trini food. Lol. THE DROUGHT IS OVER!!!!!!!!!!

Tomorrow we go to look at wedding dresses. Updates to follow...

I am having a great time so far

It Was A Long Hard Road, But I Got There

2008-06-16T07:52:00.004+01:00

I have arrived in AZ!!!!! Believe me, it's an accomplishment, there was a time when I didn't think I would make it.

I left London at 9:15a.m. and was due to arrive at Detroit Metro Airport at 1:00p.m. My connecting flight was not until 7:39p.m. but I wasn't sweating the wait because I know what US Customs and Immigration is like and I was happy for the chance to read, stretch my legs and get something normal to eat.

My flight arrived early - at noon. It took me all of 15 mins to get through Immigration so I had longer to wait than I anticipated but I still wasn't hating until I looked at the monitors and realised my flight was delayed until 9:00p.m. I kept on reading, went to the gate to board at 9:00p.m. and realised the flight had been further delayed to 10:00p.m.

I started to get really pissed, mostly because I was tired. Even though my first flight was a long one I was saddled with the world's most annoying seatmate who started off talking, then gave me all the effects of his movie (laughing out loud, yelling "Oh shit", clapping his hands loudly etc. like a never-see-come-see bastard) and I suspect he was also a serial secretive farter because something just wasn't right from time to time.

10:00p.m. comes and goes and we are all still waiting, to be told that our flight crew (stewardesses, captain, pilot and first officer) were coming in on another flight from Baltimore but there were storms and so they were unable to take off which was the cause of the delays, but they should be there by 11:00p.m. I started to get worried because I knew no one in Detroit and heard from other passengers that the airlines no longer paid for hotel stays and we would have to sleep in the airport and I wasn't down with that.

We get a food voucher from the airline for US$10 to get ourselves dinner and then 11:00p.m. comes and we hear that the flight had taken off and would be there by 11:30p.m.. We start boarding at 11:30p.m. The flight arrived from Baltimore at midnight. The stewardesses, first officer and pilot all arrived but there was no captain. He went home. He did not realise that he had another flight to make that night. We sat on the plane for another hour and fifteen minutes, waiting for him to return, finally leaving the airport at 1:00a.m. I arrived in Phoenix at 3:30a.m. (5:30a.m. Detroit time and 10:30a.m. London tine).

I was at Detroit Metro Airport for 12hours and in total it took me over 24 hours to get from London to Phoenix.

I pretty much slept ALL DAY today.

I have to say, I love American people for their vociferousness and for the way they come together. British people would have been quiet and polite and taken it, and sat separately, doing their own thing. But oh no, my American travellers did not. They complained, they asked questions, they used their mobiles to call Head Office Customer Service, they threatened, they asked for and got concessions (to be allowed to smoke in the toilet, for free alcohol, for extra miles, for snacks and drinks). It turned into a party in my Section coming down to the end. People asked me my name and where I was travelling from. They were so warm and friendly, like Trinis. I miss that in London.

I also love American Boys...but more on that later...

The Trini Stockpile

2008-06-11T13:47:00.002+01:00

On Saturday I will be leaving London for a week and going all the way to Phoenix AZ in the US for some R&R. In order to reap the full benefits of this vacation however I have had to work myself to the bone getting an assignment done that's due on Monday for school and arranging things at work so they will function in my absence so now I really need the vacation to recover from the preparations I made to go on vacation. Stress!

But now on to more serious, pressing issues.

I had a TRAGEDY, an EMERGENCY, a CRISIS on my hands

More serious than the absence of callaloo...

A day ThePrince and I never thought would come, came. We were ill prepared and had to suffer the consequences.

***

In our kitchen the food cupboard is vertical, with the top shelf so high I can neither see nor reach what is on it. I don't need to see what is there though, the top shelf is our "Trini Stockpile" shelf. We are chronic hoarders of the things we can't get here that we want to consume. This lovely shelf contains things like:

Mauby (bark) and Sorrell (Imagine my surprise when I went home for Christmas and this was being sold dried and prepackaged with the right amount of spices added)
Crix (the vital supplies, no other "cracker" tastes like it
Chief curry powder (There are so many versions and brands of curry up here but none taste like "Trini" curry so we have to import it)
Kuchela
Guava Jam
Angostura Bitters (Available here, but very expensive at approx £4)
Pholourie and Accra Mixes
Maggi cubes, "Season It" and "Flavour D Pot"
Bongo, Tiki, Ping Pong, Bobby and other assorted sweet snacks
Red mango, plums, anchar and other preserves
"Chinee" sausage
Green seasoning
Proper Pepper Sauce (Hot)

We store these things in crazy proportions. Any time either of us makes a trip home we come back laden with "supplies". There are times we have 8 bottles of seasoning and 4 bottles of pepper for example. But on Saturday I went into my cupboard to get some green seasoning to season the chicken for the next day's meal and I noticed that the bottle was almost empty so I called ThePrince go up on that shelf and take down a new bottle. He came and he said the words I thought I would never hear "Baby it doh have anodder bottle up here yuh kno". And I thought he was kidding.

But no ... WE WERE OUT OF SEASONING. And not only that... we are on our last pack of curry powder and Crix, last bottle of pepper and bitters and have NO SNACKS left.

Pressure!!!!!!!!!

Now that I think about it's funny because we were both traumatised. He said "Baby, wha we goin an do?" like it was the end of the world. And really it was the end of the world because we CANNOT eat unseasoned meat. It just cannot be done. And my cousin is the next person coming to the UK, and that's not for 2 weeks. I have no plans to go home this year and he is not going home until July.

We KNEW we would not survive.

So we went "hunting" to the "Ethnic Food Section" of three (3) Tescos and finally found some minuscule bottles of seasoning one third (1/3) the size of the bottles we usually buy at home for £1.99. That's over TT$20 for a tiny bottle of seasoning. I nearly fainted from the shock. But ThePrince soon snapped me back to reality with "Buh babes, dis is a desperate situation here"

And it was a desperate situation.

So I confess, I DID IT. I paid TT$20 for piece of a bottle of seasoning. I am so ashamed I can barely type this. But I assure you, this travesty will not recur. Clearly if we are cutting down on our visits home we need a more sophisticated storage/shipping network and mechanism.

Excuse me while I go bury my head in the sand from sheer embarrassment and work on my supply chain management.

Happy 2 Year AnniBlogiversary To Me!!!!!!!!!!

2008-06-04T11:33:00.004+01:00

Today, for the first time since I have been engaged, I feel a tiny, niggling unsure feeling. Not a big one, a really microscopic one.

Today, I have been in London for two (2) whole years. It's my Londoniversary and my Blogiversary all in one. And I totally forgot about it until about an hour ago when the doorbell rang and the delivery person gave me a big box addressed to me. There are beautiful lilies inside them, most of them unopened and a card that says
"Congratulations on making it TWO years in London. I am really proud of you! Missing you every day - Your Chef - G"

I melted. I took pictures ...

I've been incommunicado and cutting ties with him since I got engaged, and despite this, he remembered, and cared enough to do something about it. I am deeply, deeply touched.

Anyway, after my memory was jogged. I immediately came here to the blog and started re-reading some of my original posts. So many things have happened to me, I feel like a different person from when I first arrived. I can't imagine being at home permanently, I don't know what I would be doing, where I would be.

I am still home sick sometimes (a lot of times). I miss my mother like crazy, sometimes I just need her, I don't think I realised how close we were until I came here. Some of my friendships have suffered because of the distance but I think coming to London was the second best decision I ever made in my life, the best being deciding to stay, stick it out, not go home and make it work.

Because it IS working. I'm thriving - comfortable and happy (mostly). I am successful (a bit too successful actually) in my current job, looking forward to a new job, enjoying independence and autonomy and a different lifestyle, a different world view ... I don't know if I will ever be able to live at home again.

And I guess that adapting and integrating to this extent, and overcoming the hurdles I have is reason to be proud. There was a time when I could not conceive making it this far.

So Happy 2 Year AnniBlogiversary To Me!!!!!!!!!! I just may take myself out for dinner later

I Dream In Green

2008-05-29T11:58:00.007+01:00

Today I am feeling so full of energy.

I'm still feeling the effects of my amazing, relaxing, long weekend in Bournemouth. Despite the weatherman's predictions the sun shone on both Saturday and Sunday (unlike in London where it poured with rain). For a moment I felt like I was at Maracas. I deluded myself so much that I even went in to the water, which brought me quickly back to reality as it was freeezzzing. I persisted and went all the way up to my thighs though and after my body acclimatised, it was wonderful. Other people were fully submerged but I fear my blood is still too Caribbean-hot and I'd get pneumonia or something from the chill.

The trip was good for me. Being at the seaside quelled one aspect of my homesickness - missing the beach but on the other hand it made me pine for something from home so much that I have been thinking about it so much, I wake up tasting it.

My dreams are green, filled with callaloo. Callaloo is one of my favourite dishes in Trinidad. I love it. It's made with ochro (okra) and dasheen bush (spinach-like), coconut milk, crab (or pigtail). I have not had callaloo since I have been here because apart from the ingredient crisis (I somehow don't think that there is dasheen bush in London), I cannot make it to save my life. I've never tried but I know there's an art to it I haven't mastered. I dream of callaloo. I cannot wait for my mother to arrive. I will eat an entire pressure cooker full of it on it's own with a spoon.

On Sunday when we went down to the beach we saw a Caribbean restaurant and got instantly excited because the starters were things like:
"Red bean soup - stewed red beans with bits of chicken"
"Potstickers"
And of course "Callaloo".

And the main courses were
"Fiery Tobago Chicken with Plantains and Garlic Rice " (I kid you not)
"Jamaican Jerk Chicken with rice and peas and salad"
"Spicy Curried Lamb with Coconut Rice"
"Roasted Chicken with Mango Chutney, Plantains and Butternut Squash"

Despite the fact that we were the only black people in the restaurant, I felt in my bones that I was going to get a true "Sunday Lunch", an authentic experience. ThePrince said that the floral shirts the staff were wearing, "butternut squash", "mango chutney" and "ciabatta bread" that came with my "callaloo soup" were signs that the experience was going to be far from Caribbean but I was undaunted, I held on to hope.

I ordered the callaloo and the Tobago chicken, and the waitress said "I have to warn you, that chicken has quite a kick" which thrilled me to bits because it meant that it wasn't going to be the usual bland English fare. ThePrince ordered the potstickers and the Mango Chutney Chicken.

Fast forward to the food's arrival. I was presented with a bowl of thick cream coloured liquid with chunks (which I realised later were onion, crab, ochro etc) floating in it that reminded me with clam chowder. I said to the waitress "I think you made a mistake, I ordered the callaloo" and she said really proudly "That is the callaloo, we make ours really rich and creamy".

ThePrince says the look on my face was priceless. I was absolutely aghast. I have never seen callaloo like that IN MY LIFE. It was very tasty, mind you, but it was not callaloo. I was so disappointed and sad. The allegedly "fiery" Tobago chicken did not even ignite a spark. Abysmal. (The mango chutney was lovely though)

It is just depressing to be so close, yet so far. And now I crave it even more. The cravings had died away somewhat until I saw that menu. Now I don't even know if I will make it until July when my MamaBear comes to rescue me. It's so sad.

So I send this message out to the universe
"If there are any Trini people in London who know where I can find the ingredients to make callaloo (Prince can make it) or who know where I can buy ready made callaloo please e-mail me. I need this desperately. Help a sister out"

And I send this message to Trinidad:
"Any one who exists out there with an entrepreneurial mind and access to the "true" ingredients - no substitutes allowed, please start making and selling tinned callaloo. There is a market. I will personally be responsible for consuming half of what you can make and am willing to pay shipping costs. E-mail me. Let's discuss. Help a sister out"

Blessings...

Three Strange Things

2008-05-23T09:29:00.004+01:00

This afternoon myPrince and I are leaving London behind to take advantage of our long weekend (Monday is a Bank Holiday) to retreat to Bournemouth for some alone time (Yeah, I know, our whole life is technically "alone time" but we want alone time away from the house)

Life returns to normal on Tuesday.

Before I go, three (3) strange things.

NUMBER ONE
Every time we plan go away, I go into hypercleaning-drive. Every where has to be clean, and I mean spotless. All laundry has to be done. The fridge/freezer has to be clean containing only drinks and the ingredients for at least 2 meals for our return, nothing can be in there that will possibly get spoilt while we are away. Ice trays must be filled. All garbage taken out. All carpets and furniture Febreezed.

I just cannot come back to disorganisation. It depresses me. But if the apartment is clean I feel happy to be back. Also, I never really relax if I know that there are things to be done and I worry about getting back early to do those things, so it's not really a break. I don't know if this is normal or if I'm just anal. It might be a combination because I don't know if "normal" people scrub their bathrooms at 11p.m. (In my defence this trip was not finalised until Wed so I did not have all week to prepare a cleaning schedule)

NUMBER TWO
One day I came home to find the door to our apartment open. Not unlocked and not wide open, but ajar. I was so afraid. I thought we had been robbed so I called ThePrince and had him stay on the phone with me while I tentatively went up the stairs preparing myself for the worst. I go room to room making sure everything was still present and intact. There is silence on the phone because we're both nervous and worried. Then all of a sudden, I hear the trembly little-boy voice of myPrince "Baby, is the PlayStation there?"

I was going to get angry but I couldn't help it, I just sat down on the bed and laughed and laughed until the tears came down my cheeks. It was so typical of him. He didn't ask if I was okay. We have a fridge, stove, microwave, George Foreman grill, surround sound stereo system, 2 TVs, 2 DVD players, 2 laptops not to mention jewellery and other valuables and all he cares about is his PS2 and PS3...

NUMBER THREE
This morning I called one of our staff members to find our her available days for next week. She replied "I'm pregnant and I'm trying to arrange a termination for next week. So whichever day they schedule me in for I won't be able to work but I'll be fine for all the other days"

Just like that. To me, a stranger. Very matter-of-fact. Blase. Like it was no big deal and it happens everyday.

For some reason I just started to cry like a fool. For the baby, for the mother that couldn't care, for a society where abortion is casual conversation. I was really upset.

I had to laugh at myself because after being in London for almost two years I like to think of myself as being worldly and international. But cultural differences like this (I have never in Trinidad heard anyone speak of abortion above a whisper or without remorse) make me revert to that girl fresh off the plane from Trinidad. I am happy though that I am not so desensitized to be unaffected by things that are important (and that I still have some morals). If this is what it means to be a "developed" country I hope Trinidad keeps it's "third world" status forever.

It's My Wedding - PAY ME

2008-05-21T19:26:00.005+01:00

ThePrince will be going home soon and he's been compiling a list of things he needs to take and to get and things he needs to do.

On this little list was "RBTT 'I Do' Account?" As soon as I saw it I went to him because UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES WILL WE BE HAVING ANY 'I DO' ACCOUNT. For those non-Trinis, this is a bank account created in the names of couples to be married who, in lieu of a bridal registry send out the account details to their guests thereby requesting cash as wedding presents instead of other tangible store-bought items.

His argument is that:

We live overseas, so people won't know what to get us
Appliances won't work in the UK
Other items (houseware and other traditional wedding gifts) will be too heavy for us to take back with us
We are all set up domestically and so don't need the traditional wedding gifts
We should give people who want to get us something an option

However, I think that requesting (or in my opinion demanding because if you have no other registry and they want to give you a present what you really are saying is that it MUST be cash) is TACKY CENTRAL.

I have a problem with bridal registries in general. I just think that there is something wrong with telling people what to get you for your wedding. It's nice to get gifts, but I think the gift should be something that the giver is comfortable giving and something that they put thought into that THEY PICKED FOR THEMSELVES, that they thought we would like and use. And if we don't like it or we can't use it, so what? We'll thank them anyway. It's the thought that counts! And anything too heavy can be stored at my mama's until such time when I can take it.

I appreciate that TT appliances will not be able to work in London and that some of the traditional wedding gift items can be heavy. But the people who are invited to our wedding are our friends and family. They know us, they know our situation and they are smart enough to know what to get if they decide to get us anything at all. Little mementoes of the day; albums; tokens of friendship; jewellery; things old, new, borrowed and blue and other things will occur to them. They don't need our help.

Not to mention that we are having a destination wedding so we are asking our guests to get to Tobago and in the majority of cases, to stay overnight. This is an expense. So in effect, by mere attendance they are giving us a present.

Bridesmaids and groomsmen have to pay for their wedding attire, which is an added expense. Then there is the whole bachelor/bachelorette party (and associated fireman stripper). Also various other members of my family will be contributing in other ways. For example, I intend to ask my grandmother to make my wedding cake, my cousin Nikki will be doing my hair and make-up and I want to ask my Aunty Gail to play the guitar and my sister to sing. I consider those to be gifts. My baby sister who is in college offered with her no money-earning behind to pay for my wedding favours for goodness sake (of course I ignored her). I am fairly sure that my godparents (2 of them anyway) will offer to pay for something. And my family is very generous, I know I will have all the help I need getting set up or organised.

I just think it's in poor taste to ask/demand gifts on top of that. I don't want anyone to feel that they aren't welcome at my wedding unless they can spare some cash to give me or get me a present. I just want them to be there.

So, I am sorry but I just can't do it ... and I won't do it. It just goes against everything I believe. My wedding is about having the people I love watch me marry the man I love and then celebrating with me. I have been surrounded by love my whole life. My family and life have been so supportive of me and so proud. And with all they have done for me and continue to do for me, I can never and will never ask for their money.

So ThePrince can scratch that "I Do" account off the list of things to do when he gets home.

Not going to happen.

Un-Zillaed

2008-05-14T21:27:00.005+01:00

I actually have a channel on Sky called "Wedding TV" and it is my latest vice. I would watch it 24/7 if I could.

I especially love Bridezillas. I am in awe of the people who deal with the crazy brides. Just speechless...

I know that my own Bridezilla opportunities will be limited. Severely. The Maid of Honour, my sister does not take any sh*t from anybody, and I doubt that the fact that it's my wedding will change that. I watch these brides yelling up at their sisters. I don't even want to think about what my sister will do or how she will react if I started behaving like that. She might "snock" me (A snock is a special way of hitting someone that we invented)

And my best friend ... aint easy either. We aren't the kind of friends who can say "Twenty (20) years we've known each other and we've never had a cross word". We don't really fall out regularly, but when we do fight. Rawr. The fur flies. We had one of our little tiffs this weekend. ThePrince said and I quote "It's a miracle the two of you make up when you fight because you're both..." and he trailed off. I sensed the b-word though. It's true though, we're both stubborn, both opinionated, both condescending, both a bit biatchy. We give as good as we get. But we make up because we love each other. In one of our more intense spats she said to me "Dana I'm not going to fight with you any more. I don't want to play "who's the bigger b*tch with you". And that sums up how we make up. One of us has to decide not to "play".

Somehow I don't think the groom's sister who is also a bridesmaid is going to humour me at all.

So that leaves my cousin and MySpiritualGuideandConscience. I'd feel guilty being mean to my cousin because she's such a cupcake and I know she won't stand up for herself. And while SpiritualGuide might be all Godly, she does have her quieter ways of keeping me in check. She brings me back down to earth quite nicely and solidly when she needs too.

So I'm not going to be able to curse out my bridesmaids, lock them up in my house for the weekend and feed them salad so they fit better in their dresses for the wedding, threaten to cut them out of the wedding if they don't do exactly what I say, have them decorating for hours and hours or make them wear any hideous crap.

That leaves my mother and ThePrince.

I respect my mom her too much to get all bah-jiggity with her. Also, even though I'm 26 I'm still afraid of the evil eye. You know what I mean, the evil eye from when you're a child and doing something wrong and your mother would look at you, just this one look, one special look and you'd know to quit? Yeah, my mom has perfected that. Finally, my mom tends to get teary when people yell and who wants Mama-tears on their conscience?

As for ThePrince, let's not even go there. He's a walker. I act up, he gets quiet and takes a walk. How can I have my temper tantrum, complete with tears, bouquet throwing, yelling and screaming if my groom is going to walk away?

And that's why I am obsessed with WeddingTV. I have to live vicariously through these brides because as shown above, I aint gonna get none of that ish.

But before I sign out, here is one more reason why I love the show. Today's episode featured a bride and groom who met when they were in lanes alongside each other stuck in traffic. He told the cameras that the first thing he notices about her was her smile. She was smiling and laughing and he wanted that smile to be directed at him. They asked her what she first noticed about him and she responded "His E Class Mercedes Benz". It just doesn't get better than that...

All I Can Stay Is If I Were A Bell I'd Be Ringing

2008-05-11T21:42:00.005+01:00

I have had the most amazing weekend. I am so relaxed right now I'm purring like a kitten here in my little bed.

The bosses returned on Fri and to celebrate my return to normalcy and make up for the neglect I subjected myself to over the last week.

MyPrince, having witnessed first hand my grueling schedule of the last 3 weeks and it's impacts graciously volunteered to do all the house work this weekend while I had a little me-time. And then we had a little us-time.

So at this moment I've caught up on my sleep, my legs are waxed, my hair is done, I've been mani-d, pedi-d, facial-ed and plucked. I am a new woman, ready for SPRING.

And it's a great thing because SPRING IS HERE. This was an amazing weekend weather wise. 23 degrees C. I felt I hate the sun normally but it's been so gloomy that I am actually embracing the sunshine (I'll be complaining if it keeps up for more than 2 days though)

I'm also what he calls "toasted" from the sun because we spent a lot of time outdoors just catching up, walking around, holding hands, doing every day shopping and just re-connecting because we haven't had that much time together lately.

Anyway, in keeping with this New-Woman Theme, I have a New Resolution. Spring is the time for newness and rebirth after all!!!! The resolution is to MIND MY OWN BUSINESS. I expend way too much energy getting upset and hurt over things that happen (actually who know if they even really happen) to other people. But under the new regime - if you aren't bothered about your own life, you had better believe that I am not going to be either. I wash my hands.

That having been said, some of you may have noticed that yesterday's post is now missing. It was written with the best of intentions, but was again, a classic example of me not minding my business (But hey, I did not have a resolution then) so it has been removed. It's not my normal policy, I know, to remove posts. In fact it is not something I do AT ALL. But in this instance I did not even bother to protest or fight it. I just removed it. I'm just frustrated, annoyed and tired, and to be honest, the drama just wasn't worth it to me. I felt my blood boil despite my relaxation regime and just decided to take the path of least aggravation to me.

I'll stick to writing about what I KNOW going forward - me, my life and my Prince, any things I experience first hand and not hearsay.

That's all.

Why This Blog Has Not Been Updated

2008-05-07T19:03:00.004+01:00

It is the third week that my bosses have been away and I have been in charge, working the shift that starts at 7:00a.m.

In addition to that, that the son of my sole coworker is ill. He's now in hospital so she has been coming to work late (10:00a.m. instead of 9:00a.m.) and taking two (2) hours lunch instead of one (1) so that she can make visiting hours, drop him liquids and food and get status updates. Before the hospitalisation she was leaving early to take him to the doctor's and whatnot. It's been going on since last Fri. Mind you, there is no way she would have be able to get away with this if the bosses were here, but she's been there for fifteen (15) years and she is thirty (30) years older than me so there's nothing I can really do, and I guess I have to be considerate because it's her son.

My patience is running thin though because her son is a twenty eight year old man and I do not think she needs to visit him three times a day. I think she is taking advantage of me - but whatever, I'm out of this job in just over 2 months and I have every intention of mentioning it to my bosses in passing when they return (They know she takes the piss when they are not around any way)

Long story short - I AM A ZOMBIE. Operating on empty. Practically sleepwalking.

I come home, try to unwind in front of the TV and fall into a coma until the next morning. And even then I have to press "Snooze" twice to wake up. My gym schedule has gone to hell. It's all I can do to get myself to work and get home. I have no time for anything else. Including this blog.

I barely see/speak to my fiance. Yesterday, he came home and we were speaking about our days and I fell asleep mid-sentence. I was speaking and then I was asleep.

Things are that bad people. So next week when I recover. But I have to wrap this up because it's cutting into my sleep time.

The Boy Next Door

2008-05-01T09:48:00.004+01:00

The house next door to ours has been vacant and in the process of being refurbished since we moved in. About two (2) weeks ago, a young family moved in and my first awareness of them was a face staring at me through the window one Thursday evening when I came home from work. The little face smiled at me, then a hand crept up to wave got half way and was abruptly pulled down again - like he thought better of it.

I don't really like kids. I love one - because he's my god son. I tolerate most them, usually those in the age group after the terrible two-s and before the terrifying twelve-s. Sometimes I do find myself thinking that one or two are really cute (They must be really clean and polite, smiley and non-intrusive for me to think that).

We all know that I am not one of those women who yearn for children, not yet anyway and definitely have no plans to have any before the age of thirty (It was 35 but ThePrince has worn me down). I don't really know how the whole motherhood thing is going to work for me. I can't say I'm looking forward to it. I'll probably be one of those moms who take a week's maternity leave and are back at their desks almost instantly. I'm just not one of those women who ooh and aah over every single child even those with runny noses, dirty hands and bodies, poopy diapers and crying, screaming voices. I can't even envision what I would be like as a mother.

But this kid is way past the crying, poopy stage and I have to admit I thought he was adorable. And so, I smiled a big smile at the "dougla" looking face and waved and went inside.

On Sunday ThePrince and I were going out. I was ready first so I went downstairs to check the mail and noticed that there were lots of people next door and balloons on the railing leading in to the house. I just assumed it was a house warming but then Boy-Next-Door(BND) saw me, came running out of the house and said "Today's my birthday. I'm ten" and gave me a huge smile. I couldn't help smiling back again, something about this kid is infectious. I wished him Happy Birthday and then ThePrince came and put his arm around me. My BND's face totally crumbled and he got all red and he went inside.

ThePrince admittedly didn't know what was going on. But from the time he saw the poor boy's face he started laughing. He thought this was hilarious. And when the boy went inside he was still cracking up and all "I remember when I was 10. I wasn't tryin' to run up on no big man's woman" I told him he ruined the boy's birthday and he said he gave him an invaluable "birthday present" in the form of a life lesson "Check for the ring and the boyfriend who's bigger than you first". Whatever. I remember when I was ten, too. It was the start of my awkward phase. My heart hurt for him, but of course, I couldn't make it better.

I see him all the time now. He has never come running up to me again, but I love how he blushes when he sees me and his tentative wave. He is just too adorable. I wonder if I'm his first crush. I want to give him a hug and say "Don't worry you'll meet a nice girl your own age, and she won't be able to resist you because you're so cute"

I'm writing about him because this morning I saw his daddy and he said "Are you are the pretty lady next door who has stolen my son's heart?"

And I totally shamed myself and lowered my cool factor by blushing. Because I truly am flattered. I think it's just the sweetest thing in the world. I've never been a young boy crush before :-). I like it!!!!!!!!!

Dana's 26th Birthday

2008-04-28T08:59:00.007+01:00

I never feel as if it's really my birthday until my MamaBear calls and tells me my birth story. It's a tradition for us, very corny, but I love it. I never get tired of hearing it. It sets the tone of the day. It goes something like...

"26 (or 25, or 24 or how ever old I am) years ago at 7:25a.m. (when I was in Trinidad she would call at the exact time but with our time difference now it's a little tricky) at Sister Solomon's Nursing Home in San Fernando, Trinidad a beautiful baby girl came into the world, making me a mother and filling both her father and I with lots of pride. Her father was very surprised as he was certain the baby was going to be a boy and had already planned to give him a magnificent name to match the awesome things he was going to do - Maximilian or "Max" for short. But he still wanted to name his baby girl "Max" so he called her Maxine"

Awwwwwwwwww *moment of silence to celebrate how special my story is*

I was so homesick this year I made her tell me twice, like the big baby I am, and then after we hung up I proceeded to cry on my co-worker "I want my mummy. I want to go home" like a two year old because I just missed her so much. She's an awesome birthday person. All my childhood birthdays were really special. ThePrince says I had a Cosby upbringing and it's true. I am very proud of it. I especially love the part about me making her a mother, because my sister can't claim that now can she? I was the first and mummy wasn't a mummy until she had me so boo boo sister! Boo!

Despite the rocky start I had a great birthday. ThePrince whisked me away to a seaside town - Brighton for the weekend. We stayed in a gorgeous, cosy B&B and I felt like I was on another planet. The sun came out in all it's glory on Saturday so it was a perfect weekend to be at the beach. The coast wasn't sandy at all, but smooth large round pebbles, unlike anything I've ever seen. But they were comfortable to lie on. And people were tanning and reading and sleeping. It was really nice and peaceful.

There was an amusement park at the Brighton Pier so we went a little crazy on the rides, screaming and yelling our heads off (He hates heights so at some points he really was screaming and I was laughing at him). And then in the arcade, playing air hockey and those games where you hit the alligators on their heads. We held hands and took long walks and ate ice cream and cotton candy (on a stick no less) and hot doughnuts like the little children who were there. We went out to dinner and stayed out late watching the night scenes. We took a tiny open air train to the Brighton Marina and had a nose around. I haven't let my hair down and had fun like that in a long time. It was a perfect weekend getaway and a perfect birthday present. And I was so sad when it was time to leave.

Back to reality now.

I'm 26 and I still want my mummy...

Wedding Invitations that Sizzzzzzzzle

2008-04-23T08:26:00.005+01:00

It's almost my birthday!!!!!!!!! - just thought I would let you know in case you forgot...

***

I have ordered my wedding invitations but they haven't yet been printed because I cannot decide on the wording. Apparently the latest in invitations is to have a little quote at the end from a poem or text or some verse that means something to the couple. It doesn't have to be long, I've seen some that are one liners and some that are like a verse/stanza.

I want to have a quote from Sizzla or rather I AM GOING TO HAVE A QUOTE FROM SIZZLA (If you don't know who Sizzla is or are unaware of my obsession with him - see here). The Prince is not really a fan of Sizzla so I'm in the process of negotiating. When I first told him he got really quiet and just looked at me. Then, he saw that I was serious, which I am. Deadly. And he told me that I need to find a wedding-related quote from one of TheEmperor's songs and bring it to him.

"Am I out of my d@mn mind?" Of course not. Shouldn't my wedding be customised to me? Yes. And if I like/love Sizzla, shouldn't that be incorporated into the wedding? Yes. Anyway, here's what I have so far:

"I'm gonna take you there, love for a lifetime I'm gonna make your life so clear, gonna make you mine"
Sizzla - Gimme A Try

"True love never die, it only create"
Sizzla - Gimme A Try

"Nothing out there is gonna break us up In each other's arms we're waking up Love aint gonna go 'way"
Sizzla - Knowing Each Other

"I love you so much that I will never let you go
Hold you in my arms and squeeze you so
I know you need my love...
So please me, with your pleasure
You're my peculiar treasure"
Sizzla - Peculiar Treasure

"You and you alone, do the things you've done, so clever
I have never seen no one, like you, oh baby oh never
You make me feel at home when you're in my arms - I could never feel much better
Keep you so safe and sound, I wanna spend my whole life with you, forever
I'm the perfect one for you, you're the perfect one for me
I will never make you blue, you're my everything"
Sizzla - Perfect One

"My love, My life
My life, My love
It is built upon your trust
I'll never let go"
Sizzla - That's why

" We belong together, let us make it known"
Sizzla - Somewhere Oh

Sizzla fans out there can suggest other alternate, suitable quotes (I'm counting on you Pretty Red Friend) and/or vote for the quotes suggested above.

Don't try to talk me out of it either - IT'S HAPPENING. Let's not unleash Bridezilla. It's that time of the month and all so ...

The Things We Do For Love

2008-04-16T14:59:00.006+01:00

ThePrince has a friend. I mentioned him before. He is a pervert.

Since my last post about him I've been in his presence twice, once when my sister was around and I've been copied in on several e-mails where they were working out what stadium site they wanted to visit next (and the subsequent overnight trip and travel details). All these e-mails are shared, as in everyone who wants to make a suggestion clicks "Reply All" so everyone keeps current on the plans and discussions. I never take part in the discussions but I do read the e-mails sometimes.

Today, I got the following e-mail from perv addressed solely to me:

Subject: Hi Mrs Prince how are u by the way ?

I ask because you don’t respond to any e-mail messages

***

Is it just me or is that weird? I mean, we aren't friends - him and I. Why is he e-mailing me separately? In the e-mail he acknowledges that I am with ThePrince but something just seems wrong to me. It seems like a "pick up" a sort of "feeling out the situation to see how I will respond" Maybe I'm overreacting because I don't like him but the e-mail made me feel uncomfortable. Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he's just trying to be friendly with me because I'm marrying his friend and I am misinterpreting the signals.

I know that every man in the world doesn't want to jump my bones. I'm not being full of myself but my gut feeling is that he's up to something

What do you think???? Perv or friend?

I called ThePrince and told him. He went immediately silent, which is always a bad sign. He said, "We have to do something about this". Now I know my baby, he hates confrontation. And I myself was unsure of the best way to handle the situation, I mean suppose he is just trying to be a friend to us both. I decided to write him back, and I blind copied ThePrince.

***

Subject: RE: Hi Mrs Prince how are u by the way ?

Hiya. I’m very well, thank you. It’s really quiet here at work today so I’m doing bride-ly things on the Internet in preparation for really becoming Mrs. Prince, like looking at invitations and centerpieces and trying to get ideas for the Ceremony and Reception because I only have eight months left and those will fly by really quickly. I have all the samples and things I order online coming to the office so I’m like a child whenever the post comes – rushing to the door to see what new treats have arrived.

Today my placecards and seating charts arrived and they are lovely so I guess, I’m better than just “well” – I’m happy and excited. I know we’re pretty much “married” now anyway – living as man and wife but there’s something so exciting about the actual day.

Dana

I'm really hoping that says "Thanks for asking, but I'm getting married. I'm happy and I'm just not on any bullshit if that's where you're trying to go" and leaves no doubt that I'm not interested, if he was in fact trying to make a move.

***

And I know I did the right thing because my Prince wrote me back almost immediately to say

Subject: RE: Hi Mrs Prince how are u by the way ?

This is why I love you. I could hug you right now. But I think I should still call and let him know that we aren't comfortable with the way he approaches you sometimes.

***

And because I know how hard it is for him to be without his friends and how much he enjoys hanging out with this group and these football trips I wrote back

Subject: RE: Hi Mrs Prince how are u by the way ?

Baby there’s no need for you to call him. It’s okay. That would be a difficult conversation and embarrassing for you both.I don’t want to make things strained with the football limes and them coming over and so on. And I still feel like we should give him the benefit of the doubt.

I also think that my e-mail should leave no doubt as to where my priorities lie - with you.

Dana

***

And he wrote back again

Subject: RE: Hi Mrs Prince how are u by the way ?

I love you so much

***

Ah, the things we do for love...

I Refuse to Be One of "Those" Brides

2008-04-14T08:42:00.007+01:00

I promised myself that I would not become one of those brides who gets obsessed with their weddings, because I've watched enough Bridezillas to know that that's the first step on the road to the crazies. But all of a sudden, something came over and I feel excited about the wedding.

I think it hadn't really hit me until I saw the proof for my Save-The-Dates. I opened the e-mail and then started to cry like a fool. It's funny because the proof wasn't even perfect, but I don't know, something about seeing it in print ...

In all my excitement I have discovered a love for eBay. More eBay.com than eBay.co.uk because everything on the U.S. site is half price for me since £1=$2US. So far, I have my Save the Dates, invitations and potential headwear all from eBay. I mean you can get seemingly ANYTHING there and at a bargain. And shipping is almost a non-issue because now I live in a country where I don't have to worry about SkyBox charges and things come straight to my door. You can even get people to send you samples.

I've been rushing to go home for the last week to see what new samples I get. It's like Christmas. I don't know why I wasn't more excited all along. I mean, it's a day that's all about me (and ThePrince and our marriage), but essentially about me; where I get to dress up and be the centre of attention and then there's also a party that's all about me (and ThePrince and our marriage). I mean, I get to shop

On Saturday I went with ThePrince to a Wedding Store called "Confetti" in Central London and we spent an hour looking at all the marvellous things they have - placecards, a million colours of rose petals, table decorations, invitations, bridal party presents, seating charts, wedding favours, personalised ribbons and cameras, bubbles. It was like being in a toy store. So many toys - so little time, not enough money to get every single toy... I had no idea there were so many things one could have. I made a list and will spend oodles of time searching for these things on eBay

I just realised that this is turning out to be another post that's just about me and my wedding. I don't want to be one of those brides whose every sentence is wedding related.

What will be next, me turning into one of those brides who go on insane diets to get super skinny to fit in their wedding dresses (I swear this will not be me)

Quick salvage attempt to make this post non-wedding related

I have a swimming lesson on Friday - want to brush up on my strokes
I'm trying to convince my cousin to take over my duties here when I leave to start my new job
My birthday is coming up (April 25). I'm going to be 26!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ThePrince has joined the gym but is freaked out by the Men's Bathroom. There are no shower stalls, it's just open space with several shower heads. The men walk around stark naked just like the ladies do which really disturbs him. He is afraid to shower because he thinks the men will be "checking out his manhood". He has gone so far now that he's bathing with short pants on over his boxers because he also swears that a man nodded at him when he was towelling himself dry, which in his world is a "pick up" or "appreciation of his package" neither of which sits well with him because he is so homophobic. Every time we go, when we're walking home I ask him to tell me how the shower went and laugh when he answers because his whole face changes. He really is bothered by the whole situation. Not enough to quit though. After 2 workouts I caught him feeling his pecs and flexing in front of the mirror and he insists that he's more muscular and cut already (4 workouts later)

So that's 3 non-wedding related tidbits!!!!!!! *Phew* I'm not just another boring bride-to-be then...

On the Road to the Wedding - Customer Service in Trinidad and Tobago

2008-04-08T08:09:00.007+01:00

Thanks to the hard work last week of Mama Bear, Sister Bear, SpiritualGuideandConscience, PrettyRedFriend, Scotty and Gary - I am pleased to announce that I actually have a date and location for my wedding.

It was a long road. A road which confirmed to me that I will never, EVER return home to live. I have just gotten used to certain things over here and I can't go back to the way things are over here.

What am I talking about? I am talking about Customer Service, which, in Trinidad and Tobago is BEYOND poor. It's piss poor. When I call a Helpline or office or whatever in London, even if they connect me to a Call Centre in Dubai I expect to be greeted pleasantly and then assisted, with my queries answered quickly, no attitude - just answers.

Businesspeople in Trinidad clearly do not understand that customer service sells the company and its product. At the end of the day I chose the hotel that was easiest to deal with - answered my one million questions with courtesy, called me Miss James, congratulated me on my upcoming nuptials, sent and responded to e-mails promptly, and did not stress me out.

Because planning a wedding is stressful enough, planning it from miles away is even harder and so I need to trust the people I am dealing with, know that they are professionals and know that I can count on them for support in a timely fashion, should I need it. I have no intention of getting stressed over this wedding. I don't want to have to deal with a separate florist, decorator, DJ and caterer. It all needs to happen in one place and I need one go-to person, not five or ten. Is that too much to ask? I think not, I am paying for it after all ...

You probably think I am over-reacting, putting down my country. That their customer service could not be that terrible. I'll tell you this - you should not take the ease of returning items and money-back guarantees that you enjoy now for granted.

I have too many examples of poor service in Trinidad to number but I'll give you five(5) examples from my wedding phone calls from least to most offensive and I am going to name names because everything I write really happened.

Tobago is a tourist island and should be geared toward good service. And you do get good service. All you have to do is mention that you're "from foreign". They'll bend over backwards to please you to get their hands on your £s or US$, but then once they hear you're "from foreign", the catch-22 is that the price almost doubles, or even triples. The bottom line is that if you want good service you have to be prepared to pay out of your a$$ for it and if you're local the attitude is "I'll get to you when I'm good and ready"

Ok, let me end the tirade and give my examples:

Rovanel's
After several requests for an e-mail with drink lists, menus and prices - it finally arrived this morning over a week later. Why does this upset me? Because these hotels must have this information stored, this is their business. How long does it take to attach some files to an e-mail and press send? 7 Days? I think not.

Grafton Beach Resort
Two (2) phone calls and two (2) e-mails later (1 from me and the other from a friend) I am still awaiting the promised information. The Guest Relations Manager said and I quote "I'll have to get back to you on that. We don't want a wedding so large that it disturbs our overseas guests". In other words, "To hell with you local peon, we have guests with US$"

Crown Point Beach Hotel
I called to ask about weddings for January and the snootiest woman, with a fake cut-glass accent told me "Oh no darrrrling, you cannot possible have your wedding here for the ENTIRE month of January. We're just fully booked. Completely. It's impossible. Why did you leave things until the last minute? You're much too late" and then she hung up. No "Goodbye", nothing. So she scolded me and then hung up. So while she speaks well she has no courtesy whatsoever. B*tch!

Tobago Plantations
Man at Switchboard: Hello (No name of company)
Me: Hello. Would you please put me through to the person who deals with weddings?
Man at Switchboard: Hello?
Me: *Slower* Hello. Would you please put me through to the person who deals with weddings?
Man at Switchboard: "No gyul, we doh do no weddings here right now nah"
Me: Ok. Thank you
I found out later they are in some kind of financial difficulty.

And finally... la creme de la creme

Tropikist
I called their office last Monday which was a Public Holiday that I forgot about (There are so many) and was told to call Marlene on Tuesday and was given a number. I duly called the number and asked for Marlene and the Receptionist said "Marlene cyah come to de phone right now nah, she in de toilet". Enough said. Needless to say, they were no longer an option.

I think you understand where I'm coming from now. And I am one Trini who refuses to take any of that treatment any more.

The Funeral

2008-04-04T22:54:00.005+01:00

Yesterday, a week later than anticipated, was my former housemate's memorial service. I psyched myself up for it. I knew it was coming. I said to myself "Dana you know she's dead. It's been two weeks. You've dealt with it, you've accepted it, you've moved on. There's no need for tears. You already cried and got it out of your system. This is just a formality"

Then I walked into the Church and got handed the Order of Service and the front two (2) places had huge photos of her. In colour. In living colour. Exactly as she was. And I started to cry right there at the start. And I am not a funeral-crier

It's a day later and I can't shake the melancholy. I am just ... sad. Every thing is running through my head - conversations we had; how we practiced our "Hot Wuk" dance with each other; how happy I was to finally met someone who loved Sizzla as much as I; the things the priest said about her; feeling her sister shudder when hugged her - we were both crying one of those cries that start in the pit of the stomach; the mass; the mother; the best friend. Everything just keeps repeating.

And it's a private grief. I don't want to talk to anyone. I am fed up of the platitudes. While it may be true that "She's in a better place" and "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away", I don't want to hear it. It doesn't make anything better. Neither does the "Serenity Prayer" or some "Hail Marys" so to any one else who wants to suggest either - "Bugger Off". I don't want to hear it.

I feel really homesick. I just want to see everyone. And I miss my best friend...A lot

Laughing out Loud while Wedding Planning

2008-04-01T08:39:00.002+01:00

This morning I laughed out loud. A deep belly laugh. It felt so good.

I have found a site called Stuff Educated Black People Like and it is the funniest thing EVER. I confess that I am an EBP and guilty of many of the traits/behaviour pattern listed, but it is so good to be able to laugh at yourself sometimes. And I am not ashamed. I love NeoSoul and Jazz music, exclusive weddings, conferences, Advanced Degrees and Business Cards, baked chicken, CNN, Town Homes, Spas and talking about ghetto black people. I do, I admit it.

***

Even better than that, when I went on Wikipedia this morning to check the length of Trinidad (my colleagues were interested, don't ask) I saw that The Largest City in Trinidad is not Port-of-Spain but ... SAN FERNANDO!!!!!!!!! Oh yeah, take that horrible "Town" people *Sings* "Ah goin' down San Fernando, down dere have plenty Tempo" *End Song*

***

On Saturday my friend from Scotland MsOffshoreGeologist was in London and we spent the day catching up, getting beautified and eating Nando's but before I left home to meet her my Prince looked at me and said "Baby we need to talk". The dreaded words. And I knew what was coming so I said "But I have to meet MsOffshore Geologist"

And then he said "It will only take 5 minutes". So here are the 5 mins:
Prince: Baby do you love me?
Me: Of course I love you baby
Prince: Do you still want to get married?
Me: Of course I still want to get married baby
Prince: Then why aren't you excited about our wedding? You aren't planning; coming up with ideas; nothing's resolved; you don't even talk about it. I thought women got excited about these things like in the movies (Isn't he a cutie patootie)
Me: Baby...
Prince: Yes
Me: The last time we tried to wedding plan it just got crazy and it was overwhelming and no decisions were made and it just seemed like trouble.
Prince: I know, but the time is getting closer
Me: I know. Ok.... By the end of the week we'll have a date and location.

Famous last words. I forgot that yesterday was a Public Holiday in T&T so I pretty much lost the day with the making of enquiries but ... I am pleased to report that my Maid of Honour is earning her title. I brainstormed with her yesterday and she had some awesome suggestions. She looked at sites with me. She even volunteered to make calls. Very good little sister... your kung-fu impresses me.

So I'm here biding time, getting ready for 1:30p.m. (8:30a.m. Trini time) where I will proceed to bombard my 5 selected venues (Yes I have a short list) with questions in the attempt to fulfill my promise...

***

Oh, I almost forgot. Gary has a new girlfriend. (Thank God because as we know the last one was no prize). I am meeting her later. Well I am meeting him (to discuss the highfalutin menus I am getting from these places and whether or not it's worth the money they want to charge and which are the best options) and she'll be there. Updates to follow.

Sis-Therapy

2008-03-27T21:49:00.006Z

I dropped my sister off at the airport to make her 09:55a.m. flight this morning (a feat which involved me waking up at 04:30a.m.). Then I came home and went into a coma - sleeping for the entire day. I was just exhausted, because despite the sadness that preceded her arrival, I had an amazing time while she was here.

Here are some of the things I've done over the last few days:

Stood in the snow and waited for the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace
Listened to my sister call "Big Ben", "Small Ben"
Took a boat ride from Westminster Pier to Greenwich
Stood on the Greenwich Meridian
Walked around the O2 Millennium Dome in Greenwich
Crossed the Millennium Bridge
Went "shopping crazy" in Marble Arch
Took a stroll along the South Bank of the Thames
Stood up in the freezing wind feeling the cold in my bones at Canary Wharf
Saw "Wicked" (An amazing Musical in Victoria)
Went to the movies to see Vantage Point
Had a Traditional English "Fry Up" for Breakfast
Got told by my neighbours for the first time EVER to "Keep the Noise Down"

I'd like to think that we showed her a great time and that she had as much fun as we did. It was the best therapy in the world having her hear. Even now without her the house just seems empty and quiet.

It is impossible not to have fun while my sister is around. She just has so much energy. Once she wakes up (She's not a morning person) she's bouncing off the walls. Her smile and laugh are contagious and she's always talking some nonsense. She and ThePrince love each other. They even have nicknames for each other. She calls him "Tom". He calls her "Bert". Don't ask. It got to the point where even I was getting involved. I was hearing myself say things like "Tom, Bert wants to know ...". Insanity.

And I love her. To pieces. I would do anything for her. But goodness, she makes me feel so ugly. And it's not like she tries. She doesn't, not all. She can't help it. She has always been, first the cute one and then as we got older, the pretty one. Her hair is perfect, her smile is perfect, she never leaves the house without make-up. She loves getting dressed up. I am the ugly duckling, who sadly has not yet turned into a swan. I've stopped waiting for my transformation to happen. I mean, things have gotten better with time (There are pictures from when I was 12 and 13 that I want to burn. That I can't even think about without cringing) but I accept that I will never be the knockout that she is.

And I don't even really get sad about it any more. I was the nerdy, gauche one. She's the outgoing, outdoorsy one. It's just a thing. When we stand together, I don't need to take pictures or look in a mirror to know that she will look better than me. On our last day, I wanted us to take a picture for my mom to get enlarged to send for her for her birthday. We put on matching hats and ThePrince came to take the photo. And in every shot she looked perfect and I looked horrible. And we kept taking photos and reviewing the film and she kept looking more and more beautiful and I kept looking more and more awful. It was depressing and I was frustrated.

And for one second I thought in spite of the wonderful week that we had "I wish I was an only child so I would never have to feel like the 'lesser child' " And although it was only a fleeting thought for one second I started to cry because two streets away is a girl I know who adored her sister, who was inseparable from her sister, who got frustrated just like me because her sister was the one who stood out and who is now without her sister, and who I could only imagine would give anything for her sister to be back.

And I have my sister. I love her. Like I said, she is amazing. And I wouldn't trade her. I think if she wasn't here I would have had a very different, much sadder week. And I am happy to be second best, I will never get upset about it again - because in that second it became clear, I am lucky to be second best because it means I have a sister who is alive.

The Death of A Friend and The Arrival of A Sister

2008-03-23T13:33:00.002Z

My sister is here
My sister is here
My sister is here

I am really thrilled and excited. It is so good to see her. As I type this she is asleep in my bedroom (jet lag) despite the fact that we have other guests over for Easter. I am happy though because it gives me the chance to hide out in here with her.

She couldn't have chosen a better time to come. She's keeping me sane. I say this because on Thursday I found out that one of my former housemates here in London died.She was 29. And she was the person I liked most in the house. I had my room-warming sound clash with her. When I wanted to go home in the earlies and was feeling homesick she would talk and make me feel better. I spent as much time in her room as in mine, lying on her floor, talking about any and every thing.

I just read the descriptions of everyone from when I first moved into the house. My opinion of every one has changed with time, except my opinion of her. I will always remember her as a live wire. She was full of energy, always. And such a good person, a really good heart. She loved and cared about people. And she was smart and focused on her education. She was always saying to me "Dana you are too smart not to be working towards your PhD. You are just coasting on your natural intelligence. You are wasting your God-given talents and you need to go to school" She was in school, doing her Masters in Psychodynamic Therapy and Counselling. She worked so hard and she was so focused. And now, she's dead.

Even though I have written her family a condolence card, part of me still doesn't believe she is dead. My mother was telling me and she said her first and last name and I heard her but it was like my brain couldn't process it, couldn't make sense of what she was telling me. I called another name, another Ria we know just hoping. And then I called her back just to make sure. And then I cried for the rest of the day.

And I woke up the next morning feeling like crap. But then I remembered:
My sister is coming
My sister is coming
My sister is coming

I kept myself busy, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Putting all the emotions of the death into scrubbing and dusting and washing and vaccuuming. By the end of the day my whole body hurt. But I felt better and then the next day. She came.

And now my sister is here and regardless of everything that has happened, it is impossible for me to feel anything but happy.

The Wedding Bells Are Deafening Me

2008-03-19T10:19:00.004Z

Last week my bosses took ThePrince and I out for a belated celebratory "Engagement Dinner" because they were just mortified that we weren't having a proper engagement party. It had actually been planned weeks ago but between illness and their travels it had to be postponed. We went to a kosher restaurant, just the four of us.

At first, male boss was being all "daddy"ish and asking ThePrince questions like "Where do you see yourself in the future?" and "How do you intend to provide for your household in the future?" but after the grill session everyone relaxed and it ended up being just a great night. And I was so sad at the end because it hit me that I love them and come September I won't have that anymore but bonus - ThePrince finally got it. He understood why I feel the way I feel about them and why it took me so long to make the decision to leave. It's because as far as London goes they are my "family" and as far as they are concerned I am their adopted daughter. And I'm left wondering yet again if I made the right decision to leave...

During this dinner they told us about their "courtship". In a nutshell, he went to a party and the person who was taking him home to his block of flats said "I know a really nice girl who lives here" and he asked what number flat and her name and went the next day and knocked on her door. She invited him in and they talked and talked over tea and then he went to see her the next day and then the day after that he asked her to marry him and she said yes. AFTER THREE DAYS!!!! And they were married 3 1/2 months later and they are still married today.

Damn!!!!!!!!!

I saw ThePrince's eyes misting over and he asked male boss. "How did you know that she was the one?" and male boss said "You just know". I was a lot more sceptical. I said to female boss "How did you know he wasn't an insane stalker?" and she said "Well, he was Jewish. I asked around".

Since that night, ThePrince has gone into wedding overdrive. Every day he's e-mailing me something - a different country, a different package, themes, menus. And finally, over the weekend, he created in MS Access a little program that can track potential wedding guests and RSVPs and "Save-the-Dates" and lost of other things and it gives you a timeline and can make reports on what's left to be done.

Double Damn!!!!!!!!!!

To be honest it's kind of freaking me out a little. It's not that I don't want to get married. I just don't want to think about it or make any decisions for a while, you know what I mean?

Trinidad Is Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very Small

2008-03-14T09:26:00.002Z

Trinidad is a very small island. Really, really small. Microscopic.

Let me give you an example of how small:

Yesterday I received a call from one of our former registrants, now a Manager. From the minute she started to speak I knew she was a Trini. After we discussed the purpose of her call. I said "Are you from Trinidad" and she said "Yes" and then paused and then she said "Where in Trinidad are you from?" and I chuckled.

The conversation proceeded as follows:
Me: I'm from South Trinidad, Cocoyea in San Fernando
Her: Really? I'm from South too. Siparia way.
Me: I have family in Siparia
Her: Who?
Me: My mother and her siblings used to live on Siparia Road at one point. But now it's my Aunty Una
Her: Una ... Una. Wait ... I think I know her from the Catholic Church. Your uncle is a male nurse who was killed some time ago
Me: *baffled* Yes
Her: Jo is his name.
Me: Yes
Her: So that means you related to Cecil too
Me: That's my grandfather
Her: Really? I know your family real good

I just thought the whole incident was hilarious. I expect that to happen in Trinidad. In fact it does happen, all the time. It's a teacup and every body knows every body and their business. But all the way in London... come on man...

Working Out - My Brain and My Body

2008-03-11T14:22:00.000Z

I have a 3000 word essay that I have to put into a post box by the end of tomorrow.

I should not be updating my blog. I was supposed to be working on this essay over the weekend but on Saturday I went to the gym after a four week absence and then on Sunday I could not move my brown behind for all the tea in China.

Where does the time go?

I knew the pain was coming though because I struggled doing my planned circuit. The weights were just too much, I had to reduce for a few of the machines. I had to "Pause" the treadmill, something I never had to do before.

But I deserved the pain. My own fault for taking such a long break. I've regressed.

The funny thing is that I quite like the gym. I can see it's benefits instantly because when I work out I have a lot more energy and I don't get tired as quickly.

Even the things I hated about the gym in the beginning don't bother me any more. I'm getting used to them. If I'm in a really good mood they make me chuckle.

What things you may ask?

The wall to wall mirrors – I understand that seeing yourself jiggle is motivation to keep moving but really, who wants to look at themselves from all angles when they’re sweating and panting and looking unattractive
The weight room (Also known as the "H.E.Man" Room where H.E stands for Homo Erotic)– Always full of men engaged in their pissing contests with each other “Look! I can bench a million pounds/So what I can bench a million and one”. In this room, allegedly "straight", "butch" men occupy themselves by groaning and moaning, checking each other out and measuring themselves against each other. And females are not welcome. The men look at you and kind of smirk when you get in there like "Why do you even bother with your 25lb chest presses? You are so unworthy of this room you little female". They used to intimidate me. Now I just ignore them because my FI says I need to develop muscle to burn calories more effectively and I just need to get in there and do what I need to day. Hell, I pay to use those facilities just like they do.

As a side not, the weight room smells like a lingering fart. I think all those testosterone charged maniacs slip little ones out when their lifting and the all the grunting is to mask the noise.
The changing room – I have seen so much coochie and boobies that don’t belong to me in the last month and a half it’s not funny. These women get into the changing room, strip down and walk to the showers naked, towel around shoulders. They come back from the showers wrapped in the towel but as soon as they get to the lockers throw the towel off and proceed to cream and groom themselves, sometimes even blow-dry their hair and carry on conversations – either naked, or in a bra and underwear. This, while there are separate changing rooms. It’s like an exhibitionist conference.

Maybe I’m a prude or just not comfortable with my body but I can’t get naked in front of people, not even my family. And I wish I could close my eyes the entire time because I have to tell you, not all of these ladies are super-trim and sexy, some are old and fat and rolly and wrinkly. I just can’t deal with it. There was even this woman once who was rubbing herself all over with cream while looking in the mirror, so it was like she was admiring and fondling herself. Ewwwwwwwwww!!!

ThePrince thinks this is hilarious. He makes fun of me by pretending to be that little boy in the Bruce Willis movie, The Sixth Sense coming up to me and whispering “I seeeee naked people”. But this is a serious issue. There is a pool in the gym as well and the kids don’t have a separate changing room so they are sometimes in ours with their mummies (I’m talking boys and girls here) and nobody even bothers to cover up. That must be traumatic for the children …

So I am going to make a proper attempt at gymming going forward. At least twice or three times a week. It IS to my benefit after all. And I look forward to the day when I can post about getting gym-naked and strutting my stuff in front of the mirror.

As for that 3000 word essay, at the moment I'm about half way through. One of the benefits of having a job where you really aren't required to do much is that you can get your personal stuff done when you need to. I'm really going to miss that come to think about it...

What's In My Head

2008-03-05T10:44:00.010Z

Today I have four (4) predominantly recurring thoughts swimming around my head. Other thoughts come and go but those niggle and stay around, coming to the surface ever so often

The first is that my sister is coming to visit me on the 21st of March. I try not to think about it because I get so excited that I can't sit straight. I can't wait to see her. I'm planning the things we will do and the places we will go. I got her an Oyster card, I copied my keys and I bought an Aero bed. I have a list of things she likes so I can get them from the grocery. I'm just too damn excited.

The second is how exciting relationships are when they are new. I'm not talking about just love relationships, even friendships. You start talking to someone and you're all unsure because you like them and think they're cool but you're not sure how they feel and you don't know if you're talking to them too much and they think you're annoying but then you don't want to be too nonchalant. It's just all very exciting. And then for the Internet there's always that feeling of "Is this person real?" or is it some freak hiding behind a keyboard. And then you speak to them and you're excited or you get a text and you're all happy. Newness is fun...

My third thought is about my hair. It smells like sunshine. And no, I did not just make that up. On Monday I was on the bus and I felt the person behind me leaning in really close. So I turned around all "What the hell?" and the man who was invading my personal space smiled at me. A really nice happy smile and said "I was smelling something amazing. And it's your hair. It smells like sunshine". And at first I was traumatised and all disturbed (The man was smelling my hair after all) like how I get when pervy strangers speak to me. But more and more I think it's cute, not pervy. And his smile. It was so genuine. I'm still thinking about the incident. And frig man, my hair really does smell awesome. I have a new shampoo.

The final thought swimming about in my head is about a REAL pervert. ThePrince has announced that this weekend we will be going on another football related coach trip. Which is fine. The last one, wasn't bad at all once I got into the spirit of things. My only problem is that as with last time, we will not be making this trip alone. Two of his friends (all Trini alpha males) will be accompanying us. And one of those two friends is absolutely fine but the other is a total perv.

The last trip was very last minute and we ended up staying in a sort of boarding house. There was a long corridor with rooms on either side and 3 bathrooms - on either end of the corridor and in the middle. Our room was closest to the one on the end and his room was closest to the one in the middle. I was coming out of our bathroom and he was leaving his room to go to his bathroom and he didn't go about his business like a normal person. He stood there, in the middle of the corridor, looking at me in my towel until I found the keys, opened our room door and rushed inside. I felt naked like he was undressing me with his perverted eyes.

And there were other things for the rest of the weekend. He never touched me but he'd be speaking to someone else, even ThePrince and looking right at me. If I was quiet he would ask me a question. Then, he said to me "I always think that there is something about a woman that makes a man want to give up all his freedom and marry her. What is it about you?". Mostly, though he just looked at me. Stared. And I know that stare. It made me uncomfortable. I couldn't withstand it. I looked away. I blushed.

Everything about him is feline - his beautiful grey eyes, his smile like the fat cat that got the cream and the way he runs his tongue over his teeth in between thoughts like he is thinking about eating me. I really don't like it.

And so I went to ThePrince and I told him about it and he said "Yeah, everybody know he is a nasty man. But wha' yuh worryin' 'bout? Ah right here. Nuttin will happen. It eh have no law against watchin' "

But I think there is a law. Your friends, out of respect for you are just not supposed to ogle or act like they desire your significant other. To me that is just wrong.

Happy Birthday MostGorgeousFriend

2008-03-03T09:43:00.005Z

Today is one of the best days of the year. It is the day that my best friend MostGorgeousFriend was born. Happy Birthday Baby!!!!!!!!!!!

I love birthdays. I love her. I'm excited like it's my own birthday.

She's the best "best friend" in the world. To tell you how awesome she is, I asked her what she wanted for her birthday and all she wants is for me to get a phonecard and call her and talk as long as possible.

So here's my paragraph of mush to her on her birthday because you know she's not going to let me get into this on the phone
"MostGorgeousFriend,
My birthday wishes for you are that:

You start to see yourself the way I, and all the other people around you do. Because you are just fabulous. You're gorgeous (1% prettier than PrettyRedFriend) and independent and strong and ballsy and smart, compassionate and loving and when you smile your whole face lights up and the world smiles back...You're awesome
You continue along this motivated, driven, "making something of myself" streak that you've been on lately. It's really impressive and solidfying your future and I am just so damn proud of you how you're being Executive and making decisions and taking charge. It's nice to see, especially from the girl who never did her homework and always copied mine.
You know the love of a good man. Because you deserve it honey. And you haven't had it yet. And I don't know about you but I could go for the rest of my life without hearing the name of that unworthy piece of shte "NR"
You are happy (Please note that I take this back if your being happy involved NR is any way, shape or fashion)

When we were sitting next to each other in Secondary School I would have never imagined that someday we would be sisters of a kind that runs deeper than blood. You are my first port of call, my comfort, my looking glass, my twin soul - my very best friend. I love you so much. And I am so, so proud of the woman that you are. And I feel amazed by how much you have changed and grown in the time I have known you and awed by the woman you are becoming right in front of my eyes. I look forward to us continuing to be friends in the new phases of our lives."

I love you sooooooo much. Happy Birthday!

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

2008-02-28T20:00:00.004Z

On Tuesday morning ThePrince could move again. And speak in full sentences. And manage dry toast and Crix (Hell yeah we have Crix - we stockpile that, bring in suitcases from home). For those non-Trinis it would take a whole other post to describe the fabulousness that is Crix so for now I have to summarise in one completely inadequate word - "crackers" or "saltines"

So on Tuesday morning I was happy. I had nursed him for two days - cleaned up puke, rubbed him, shoved tablets down his throat, rehydrated him and he even managed to get three sponge baths in there somewhere.

Skip to Tuesday right before lunch where I was hung over a toilet in the office puking up everything I had eaten from Sunday and I was there shuddering and shaking for a good half hour, and then an hour's respite and then it was happening all over again. Uncontrollably. Definitely not man sickness.

My bosses had me in a taxi and on my way home in 10 mins. I told Gravol for the vomiting and Imodium for the pooping and slept next to my Prince for over 24 hours until 9:00a.m. the next day.

Wednesday I woke up feeling like someone beat me up while I was sleeping. My back, my arms, my face, everywhere hurt. But both ends had sealed up and I had my Prince next to me. We stayed in bed for the rest of the day with our huge bottles of water and Lucozade Sport and the assortment of pills (for him, not me) watching day time TV.

Our conversations basically went like this:
Me: Are you okay?
Him: Are you okay?
Me: Did you just poop again? Solid or liquid?
Him: Do you want some toast or rice or Crix (That's what was on the menu - plain boiled rice or dry toast or crackers"
Me: Pass the Lucozade
Him: Pass the water
Me: Need some Imodium? (diahorrea)
Him: Need some Nurofen? (pain)
Me: Would you love and marry me if I was your half sister? (Sally Jesse Raphael)
Him: Would you love me if I was a transsexual prostitute? (Jerry Springer)
Me: Would you love me if I slept with my best friend's 17 year old brother on the day of our wedding? (Montell Williams)
Him: Would you love me if I got MostGorgeousFriend pregnant and she asked you to be the godmother and you said yes and I didn't tell you and let you go ahead? (Ricki Lake)
Me: Would you love me if we had two children and one is two yrs old and one is six yrs old and I am now confessing to you that both children may not be yours? (Maury)

And so on and so forth...

Ahhh...the romance and bliss of it all!!!!!!!

The Absence of "Man Sickness"

2008-02-24T19:48:00.003Z

"Man Sickness" is hilarious. If you don't know what it is, it's when a man gets the slightest tiniest sniffle, cough or ache and acts like he's on his deathbed and too weak to move a muscle.

For example if I get the virus before ThePrince I will manage to survive the day - go to work, maybe even cook etc. But then we he gets the virus from me. He'll be flat out - confined to bed; snivelling and pitiful; groaning and moaning; calling me every second for juice, ginger ale, pills, crackers or whatever he thinks will make him feel better that's 2 steps away that he can't get because he's "sick".

So yesterday he said he had a sore throat and went into the "sick bed position" (In front of the large screen TV with the Sports Channel on) and started asking for a sponge bath because he's too weak to go to the bathroom on his own, I just dismissed him. I figured if he was well enough to get excited every time a ball was approaching the net and well enough to think about sponge baths in Lent, he was well enough not to get my full attention.

But this morning, he looked like death. My baby is sick. And not "man sick". Really sick. I'm starting to get worried. Nothing will stay down. He's running a fever. He's slept almost all day. Barely eaten and most importantly DID NOT WATCH THE CARLING CUP FINAL. And that people is scary. I'm bringing out my best Florence Nightingale and trying to make him better. I love him. And I want him to get better...

Quick, fast and in a hurry!!!!!!

The Week In Blurbs

2008-02-22T11:29:00.004Z

Today is a really stressful day. On Tuesday I was out of office and on Wednesday my boss and I had a meeting in Central Ldn. When I came to work yesterday my Inbox was full of returned messages. You know the ones that say "Undeliverable" and give you an error. Basically everything that was e-mailed since Monday was undelivered. I had clients and candidates breathing down my neck about urgent things they hadn't received. It was a nightmare.

We were supposed to change hosting companies since last year. It was one of my first recommendations but my boss kept stalling because all the other options I suggested were more expensive no matter how much I tried to drill home to him that you get what you pay for and for the money we were paying we deserved all the crap they were dishing out - constant breakdowns, poor service (holding for an hour on the phone to get through to someone), no help (most of the problems were solved by me because they took too long to "investigate"

Yesterday he came to me and said "How could this happen?" and I said "Because you were being cheap" and we had it out. I told him that it's time to stop being a Mickey Mouse business and get serious. I pulled out countless e-mails where I made suggestions and discussed it with him and where he refused to budge and he had to back down. And he gave me his credit card to make arrangements as I saw fit. And I'm in the process of but it's one whole set of drama.

I've had to remind myself over and over that I am actually having a pretty good week this week. My friend Tori sent me a "Be Happy" package all the way from the U.S. with chocolates and a book and products from the Body Shop that really cheered me up.

Then I got a job offer. But I'm not ready to release details yet. But I think I'm excited...

In other news I LOVE MY BEST FRIEND. I'll give you three reasons why although there are several, too many to count:

She calls me "Honey Bunches of Oats"
She sings "My Little Pony" when I'm feeling sad
She educates me on U.S. slang and terminology (She went to Spellman)

As regards the latter, after I posted about SouljaBoy's "Crank Dat" she proceeded to educate me on what the whole "Superman" thing is about. If you really want to know click here. And I have to be honest I was traumatised for about 24hrs that my favourite song was about that. I changed it from my alarm and everything. But I really love that song!!!!!!!!!! Ignorance really is bliss so I'm just going to pretend that I don't know what it means.

Earlier today ThePrince IMed me to say please google "2 Girls, 1 Cup". I did and now I regret it. I almost threw up. I strongly recommend that you don't watch this but you probably will anyway so I'll help you

You Are What They Say You Are ... A Superstar

2008-02-18T09:25:00.007Z

I had an AWESOME weekend. Well not yesterday which was spent recovering and doing domestic chores but Saturday afternoon into evening was very enjoyable.

Some newly engaged friends of ThePrince's were having a "lime" over at theirs. A kind of congratulations, housewarming, haven't seen you in a while, all in one, get-together. It started with football (I'm starting to realise that most of these events involving ThePrince's friends do) - Man U versus Arsenal. And after Man U wiped the floor with Arsenal we switched the channel to some kind of music video channel and were listening to the music while talking heaps of nonsense.

Fast forward to several bottles of wine later. We (men and women alike with the exception of the male host who was looking on divided between looking aghast and laughing) were lined up to the front of the room dancing - just like the members of NSync to "Bye Bye Bye" - jumps, hand motions and everything. We were amazing. Then luckily for us "Hit Me Baby One More Time" came on and just the ladies had to get our slutty school girl on.

Then it occurred to me "I don't know these people, I just met them" and I got shy for a few minutes and went and sat down. Then my favourite song in the world right now came on. I am afraid to admit this but the song is actually "Crank Dat (Supaman That Hoe)" by Soulja Boy. My alarm is set to that song I love it so much!!!!!!!!!! (ThePrince hates this because really we're waking up every morning to someone yelling "You") I really have no idea what they are singing about but THERE IS STEEL PAN IN THE BACKGROUND. Trinidad and Tobago's National Instrument. And I just love to crank it. And soon everyone was cranking it. It was hilarious.

As if that wasn't enough some time later on in the proceedings "Ridin' Dirty" by Chamillionaire came on and ThePrince was all "Baby show them how you rap to this song". And everyone was all "She can't rap. She's waaaaaaay to prissy to rap". I got up and did my thang because I actually do know ALL the words to that song (it's on my gym rotation) and I sing it all the time. And everyone was screaming because I was singing it right and doing all the actions and "rapping" all bad a$$ (which is especially since I haven't driven a car in years). And my Prince was so proud and telling everyone "Look at her - you'd never expect in a million years that she would be able to do this, would you?" (strange the things that impress people). One of his friends kept wanting me to "rap" over and over "Just tryin to bone ain't tryin to have no babies"

I haven't had that much fun (or been that tipsy) in a loooooooong time. I'm still on a high and in a very good mood today, very unusually for a Monday.

So crank that song up. I MEAN YOU!!!!!!!!

Anti-Valentine

2008-02-15T14:03:00.011Z

My Valentine's Day this year was very low-keyed. I just wasn't feeling it this year. Normally I'd be all excited and send at least a card to my mom and sis and plan something special and get all excited but this year I just couldn't be arsed really.

ThePrince took me to see Mamma Mia in the West End. It was an amazing production. I loved it. I haven't laughed that much in a long time. And now I can't get Abba songs out of my head. It was good fun but today I can barely keep awake at work. I'm getting old. Can't party like I used to and get up fresh the next morning any more.

But none of that matters. On Wednesday I found out that a very close friend of mine will be having surgery soon, in about 2 weeks. I don't even know what the surgery is for, what type of procedure, how long it will be for, the recuperation time, the risk - nothing. And the reason I don't know is because she didn't tell me. I found out in passing from another friend who I thought was less close to her than I was.

I don't think I remember a word from the conversation I was having with my other friend after that was mentioned. It was like everything went still and I could hear a roaring in my ears and a ticking in my brain. At that point it didn't occur to me that I hadn't been told. I sat there thinking what an awful person I was. I was sure that she had told me and I had been so caught up in my own life that I dismissed it.

I felt bloody awful, really guilty and selfish and horrible. But I kept running through all our conversations, over and over, trying to remember when she had told me and I couldn’t come up with it. Then I realised she didn’t.

I'm not going to be all dramatic about it and how I felt because she has other more important things to be concerned about now other than this petty nonsense. I just want everyone to have her in their thoughts and prayers.

I spoke to her about it and she said that I am a worrier and she didn't want to worry me. It's true, I am a chronic worrier. But in this case I think I have good reason. When people talk about my father they say things like "He was such a good person and God takes the good ones first sometimes". And that is something that has stuck with me so I have to worry about her especially because she is just such a good person. I swear, it's like a light shines out of her.

Since I've known her she has been an immense support and I can count on her to be ALWAYS HONEST with me, even when the truth is not what she knows I want to hear. But she does it in a gentle way, I can't explain it. She's the physical manifestation of my moral compass. My test for myself often is "Would I tell her about this?" and if I am doing something that I can't tell her about or would feel uncomfortable telling her about, it's most likely wrong. And it's not really that she's judgmental, it's that she sees things clearly from a Biblical perspective so it's either black or white for her, there's no grey - something is either right or wrong, not kinda-sorta. And there are so few people like that left in the world who are like that but still "normal" and relate-able, where you can relax around them and be yourself and tell the truth and have a laugh and just - be.

On reflection now, I realise that as far as this blog is concerned I mention people like MostGorgeousFriend and PrettyFriendFriend (to name a couple) a lot and say how much I love them and miss them and I leave her, not intentionally but still, all the same. So she probably doesn't realise how important she is to me and how much I love her and value our friendship. I also realise that she probably thinks our friendship is very one-sided. I lay a lot on her and she ... well, she doesn't reciprocate - clearly.

I do love her very much, am praying for her and wish her the very best of health

Semi-New Perspective

2008-02-12T10:15:00.000Z

I feel a lot better today which may have something to do with the healing properties of pelau or maybe with all of you honeys who helped cheer me up yesterday - TNLBF, SpiritualGuide&Conscience, Tori and even mummy (MostGorgeousFriend you do not make the list because even though you called me you annoyed me so )

I'm 25 now. My mother is the person who's been there since the day I was born, so yeah, sometimes she says things that upset me at that time, but I'm at the point now where I wake up the next day and just get over it. Whatever she says, comes from love and I know that. I can't really stay annoyed with her anymore. Today I'm thinking about the finger, the gangrene and having to chop it off and I'm smiling to myself. You might think I'm making that up, but I swear it's the truth and it's funny. That's how my Mama Bear is and ... you just have to love her.

And you have to love my sister too. Yesterday I wrote that I never think about my ex anymore but that is untrue because I thought about him just Sunday when my sister wrote me this e-mail which I will share with you because it's funny as hell:

On Wednesday night R picked me up by roomie's house to drop me back home cause he was in town and it wud have been inconveniencing to make roomie drive all the way to south and back to san juan. And guess who else was in the car? Best friend of your ex!!!!!!!!!!!!! He ask how u going. So of course u kno me... "she's great, working and living in London, engaged to be married next yr" He was like for real??? And I was like "Yeah the guy is really nice, gets along with the family really well and he's like the brother I never had lol". Then this f*&ker ask if allyuh have children.. I was like "No hoss"...I just kno he going back to tell ex so u kno I had to rate meh sis up

And this is why she's the Maid Of Honour. I cracked up laughing when I read that. She is too funny and she talks just like that too. Really fast and with all the "like-s" When I read something she writes I can hear her speaking to me and I can't help smiling

What can I say? Today I am happy because I remember that I am surrounded by the love of some amazing people (Ok even you MostGorgeous Friend )

Well There You Go ...

2008-02-11T08:06:00.000Z

One thing is clear at the end of this weekend. I need to make friends or maybe even one friend in London. Because as it stands now, when bad things happen I have no port of call. No one to turn to and I am completely alone.

The Mother In Law To Be

ThePrince's mother and I don't get along. Well that's not accurate. ThePrince's mother doesn't like me and I in return like to pretend that she doesn't exist. If you ask ThePrince about it he'll mumble some sugar coated bullsh*t about me taking away her only, first born son - first to London and now she thinks I'm trying to separate him from his family.

What this really is about though, is money. ThePrince was the principal breadwinner of his family when he was in Trinidad - paid the mortgage, both car loans and the majority of the bills. He still does a lot for them but him having a new "family" and a new "life" and the necessary redirection of funds that will be expected is not sitting well with her.

I forgot that she also thinks I'm a bit of a Princess. To answer why we'll have to get into "The Souse"

The Souse
When we used to live in Trinidad I went over to ThePrince's house one Saturday night and his family was engaging in their weekly tradition of eating chicken foot souse. Now I detest souse of all kinds but chicken foot souse makes me retch. I can still see to this day them eating those feet with the toes hanging out of their mouths. I tried really hard to look at the TV, read a newspaper, but I think my thoughts must have echoed across my face and I was seriously grossed out. Because of this she thinks I'm really bougie and prissy and not a good match for her "earthy" son and I don't understand "the struggle". But I'm sorry, poverty is not a virtue and I'm not going to apologise for a middle class upbringing

The Weekend Away
Last weekend we went to Liverpool on a coach trip. It was a good weekend all in all, but while we were in the hotel we had a huge row. I tried to explain to him that he needed to be his own person and move out from under his mother's skirts and have his own life. I also told him that I would never in a million years marry him if we were living in Trinidad because we would not have our own lives and he would continue to be a slave to his family. Later that day he admitted to me how trapped and stifled he feels by his family, how sometimes he feels like it is a burden and he did not really get to have any youth because he had to take care of his family and how much he enjoyed the Bahamas and then London because of the freedom it gave him and I felt like I had won a victory.

The Ring

It's been about two weeks since I got engaged. My ring has not yet been dropped off at the jeweller's to get sized

The Mother, My Mother

My sister was in Trinidad last week and is coming to see me in March so I wanted her to have the ring because I didn’t want it FedEx-ed. It’s precious and I don’t trust the bastards. And I figured if my sister had it, I had a better chance of seeing it someday than if his family had it. I make arrangements with my best friend MostGorgeousFriend to collect it from his mother’s office (along with a dress and some other letters that ThePrince was supposed to bring for me when he was home) and give it to my mom. My best friend duly went and collected the parcel and was given the letters and the dress but no ring. Are we surprised? (No!) She called me to let me know. I went absolutely, completely, freaking insane.

Best friend dropped off the parcel for my mother and made the mistake of letting her know that I was upset. My mother then calls his mother to find out where the ring was and his mother said that ThePrince “had not authorised her to release” the ring or words to that effect. My mother then calls me to relay the message, tell me that clearly I need to communicate with ThePrince because someone got their wires crossed somewhere. She then continued but before I write what she said let me tell you something about my mother.

She is a projector. For example, if my sister or I cut our finger she would make a comment that could be broken down into three phases. The first sensible part “You had better put something on that…” then the dramatic part “…or you could get gangrene” and the absolutely ridiculous part “and your finger will shrivel up and drop off”. And if you think I’m making that up you can ask my sister who will back me up. She does this all the time.

Let’s relate that to this circumstance. The sensible first part was “You and Gerard need to talk”. Then came the dramatic part “Maybe the fact that you haven’t gotten your ring yet and this one little ring is giving so much trouble is a sign and you all should really think about this engagement because now is the time to break it off if you need to”. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she continued with the absolutely ridiculous part “…because I don’t want this to turn into a situation like your ex where you are left battling with feelings of unworthiness”

Yeah my mother is an amateur psychologist and my whole life she’s been telling me things that haven’t even entered my mind and that I am not thinking about – that I am thinking about. And she is always convinced that nothing is ever at face value. There is always something lurking under the surface. I’ll never forget the time that my stomach was hurting me and she had a new boyfriend and she told me it was because I had a problem with the relationship and invited me to talk about my fears and concerns when it turned out that I had a kidney infection.

She also thinks that I am a really angry person inside and for some reason still holding on to feelings about my ex. Through the entire scenario with my ex I NEVER felt unworthy. Confused, hurt, upset – yes, but unworthy? Never. And I don’t even think about my ex anymore. He’s in the past and I can see now that he wasn’t right for me and it truly is not a big deal. I am not nursing the scars of unrequited love or any such thing. If ThePrince and I are having a problem, how does my ex even come into this? How did she even get there? She never ceases to amaze me...

The Fall Out

On Friday I said to ThePrince "Your mother did not drop the ring off for MostGorgeousFriend to pick up". He said "Okay". I hung up. I was too upset to speak.
Saturday morning before I went to the gym we had a conversation that went like this:
Me: Would you like to admit now that we have a problem in my relationship with your mother?
Him: All I have to say is that words have power and if you keep insisting that there is a problem, sooner or later there will be
Me: Is that all you have to say?
Him: Yes, at the moment

And I haven't spoken to him since. Literally, not a word. Thank goodness we have separate rooms. Without speaking, he knew was confined to the front room. And while he got the big TV I think I was the overall winner with the bed and the DVD player. On Saturday I just avoided him (you can pretty much hear the movements and by so doing tell where everyone in the house is). And he was such a good boy. He vaccumed and did laundry and went to the grocery and cooked (I ate nothing that he cooked). After the gym I went out to get the ingredients to indulge myself in my TripleM Remedy (Musicals, Mills & Boons, Mudslides) - the cure for all ailments. Don't tell anyone but even though I am so widely read now and should know better I still love a cheesy Mills & Boon romance.

Yesterday I decided to get out of the house so I went to the gym again (motivated by a stern talking-to from my instructor) and then I went to lunch to see both The Water Horse and Juno all by myself which brings me back to where I started.

New Friends
I need some. Personal time is all well and good but when something goes wrong and you need comfort or whatever it's nice to have someone nearby to call on. I don't have that. I shouldn't have to sit in the movies by myself. The sad thing is that in London ThePrince is my closest friend and something must be done about that.

The Shortest Engagement In History?
At this moment I'm not feeling any love whatsoever so don't ask me about the wedding or the date, the guest list, the ring or even about ThePrince for that matter. Just like him, this entry is all I have to say at the present time.

Friday Update

2008-02-08T09:54:00.000Z

Yesterday I was really grouchy. In a foul, foul mood. Petty work stuff and on top of that the Homesickness Metre was off the charts because I was talking to MostGorgeousFriend and talking to her always makes me feel sad and because PrettyRedFriend showed me pics from Carnival and it hit me - I wasn't in any of them. Poor me... Code Red - fiery hot.

THE HOMESICK METRE

Level 5 – CODE RED

I am on the verge of a mental breakdown, at my wits end and want to pack a suitcase and jump on a plane to return home IMMEDIATELY because Trinidad is PERFECT

My iPod is FILLED with this year's soca that I missed stuck here in the cold unloving world

Level 4 – CODE DARK ORANGE

The merest mention of home or anything Trinidadian will cause me to burst into copious and unexplained tears

My iPod is half-filled with Christmas music and Sizzla

Level 3 – CODE LIGHT ORANGE

I am eating pelau every day and heading to Shepherds Bush on a weekend for doubles and pholourie and longing for a bake and shark and some curry crab and dumpling. I find myself wondering what my friends are doing and feeling really left out and sad. I want my mummy!!!!!!!

My iPod is quarter-filled with Christmas music and Sizzla

Level 2 – CODE YELLOW

I think of home fondly and miss my friends and family but know that I am better of where I am for the moment and that short visits home are best.

My iPod is the perfect blend of past and present urban hits

Level 1- CODE VANILLA

I am missing people from home but choosing to dwell on the things I don’t like about home – like the excessive sun, the traffic, inadequate public transport, lack of meritocracy and the existence of the “fair-skinned aristocracy”

But I feel a lot better this morning. I vented to TNLBF and ThePrince. Tori sent me funny clips from You Tube and I have now added some new swear words to my vocabulary like "French Toast" and "Lint Licker" and "Son of a Biscuit" (see below)

After laughing at all of those harmless swear words, this morning as I was leaving my house I saw that my neighbour's yellow front door had the word "CUNT" written across it in black tar or oil and that each of the five panes in the front window next to the door had a letter smeared on it spelling "THIEF". Ouch. I was just aghast. In complete shock. But it gave me some perspective that no matter how bad my day was going to be, it wasn't going to be as bad as that person's. Imagine waking up to that. Damn.

As far as work is concerned I had a chance for retribution this morning as a client who cancelled on me yesterday and told me in a very clipped two line e-mail that he used someone else to fill his position was forced to humble and come back and ask for my help as the cover he arranged was a no-show. As an added bonus a girl who was very rude and implied that I had "invented" the vacancy I sent her forward for and as such was "using her" was brought down a peg, or two, or three. One thing is becoming more and more clear. I can't keep doing this in the long-term. I'm getting really frustrated.

My Lenten abstinence is moving along painfully. Thank Goodness I have ThePrince to keep me in line because the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Specifically my flesh. Very weak. Jesus really is amazing. Forty days and forty nights is a loooooooong time to be tempted.

Gary and I have still not spoken since the night of the dinner. I have not gone to the gym since then either. But my Fitness Instructor called me yesterday and she was REALLY pissed off so I am to report first thing tomorrow morning.

As far as the wedding planning goes we're at the point now where we are both just going to run off to Jamaica together, just the two of us and get married, have some honeymoon time and then go home to Trinidad and have a big Reception with our 200 nearest and dearest.

Because I have had a vision of the wedding perfection that I want for myself and it looks like this

Oh yeah...

Ash Wednesday Musings

2008-02-06T11:13:00.000Z

The last two days were Carnival in Trinidad and Tobago and although I didn't think I would be, I was really homesick even to the point of craving things I don't normally like (sunshine, coconut water, doubles from questionable street vendors)

I missed my girls. I missed J'Ouvert with my girls. I missed getting "nice" (feeling an alcoholic buzz) and having "adventures" with my girls. I missed being a skettel... I even missed the bad things like PrettyRedFriend's high pitched drunken giggle, the haze of cigarette smoke that surrounds us in a party (everyone smokes except me) and even how my feet would hurt because I refused to wear trainers to parties and insisted on wearing cute shoes.

I hate my sister. She's home right now. AGAIN after just being home for Christmas. She played mas. She had better not send me any pictures (Just kidding sissy poo - send me EVERYTHING)

I called my best friend MostGorgeousFriend pretending I had something important to tell her because I was feeling so homesick and missing her so much on Monday - just to hear her voice

But now it's over. Lent has begun. This year, my fiance and I (Oh yeah - fiance) have decided that we are going to give up the sins of the flesh. We tried that last year as well and let's just say things did not go as planned but this year I am determined to live 40 days and nights of celibacy.

In other gross-out news I just had my annual PAP Smear and Mammogram. I'm really anal about preventing things that are preventable and catching things quickly. I have a family member who had breast cancer (caught in time) and another relative with stomach cancer (not caught in time) I don't know if it's hereditary or not but there's no harm in checking.

I also did my annual STD Tests. I am in a committed, monogamous relationship and practicing safety but I'm also not a dumba$$. I've watched waaaaaaaaaay too much Lifetime TV to trust any man 100%. You always have to leave some room for doubt. I’m not for example going to be one of those women on Maury who get the lie detector test results back and even when faced with proof that their man is a dutty ol’ dog, still believe him and say the test was wrong. Likewise I'm not going to sit in an ivory tower and say "I am 100% sure that my man is faithful" and not get myself checked out and BELIEVE the results when I get them. And I think everyone who is sexually active should get tested too, at least annually - married or singleI am faithful and I want with all my heart to believe that ThePrince is too at the moment, but at the end of a day - he is human and male and as such could make mistakes and fall victim to temptation. I have let him know in no uncertain terms however that if tests show ANYTHING positive (or if I find out by any other means that he has been unfaithful) at all I do a Lorena Bobbitt and (as if I need to type this) THE WEDDING WILL BE OFF.

I know that as a Christian I should be all about forgiveness but when it comes to certain things I have a forgiveness quota (That's definitely not in The Bible I know :-)) but I made and I've already reached it. Enough said.

Back to Reality - Recaps

2008-02-01T11:24:00.000Z

Let's shelve all the wedding business for a moment and get back to normal life. Said wedding is after all at least a year away...

***

Everyone's been asking me who won the pitiful song game in the end. I lost the penultimate session. I was saving Al Green's "How can you mend a broken heart?" for the last day but he killed me with it. But then on the Saturday I won with Luther Vandross' "A House is Not a Home" and for that last win I have to give a shout to SpiritualGuideandConscience's Sister. Yep, the conscience has a twin who has adopted me too and also humours me in my insanity and helps me win silly contests.

***

Everyone's also been asking about Gary's girlfriend. I firstly want to say that she's very attractive in a very Barbie kind of way. Blonde, big boobs, works in fashion (Topshop to be exact). I felt grateful that I went home and showered and put on some makeup in preparation for the dinner. Gary came and picked me up and on the way over in the car he was telling me how he really feels she is "the one" and he wants to settle down with her and they're thinking about moving in together so I was excited to meet her. In the time that I've known him he hasn't had a girlfriend for any period over a month and she's lasted for almost six(6) so I figured she had to be something special.

We're going to refer to her from this point onward as BTG (Blonde Topshop Girl). I was going to say GG (Gary's Girlfriend) but I don't think it's going to last and what will we call the next one if I call her GG

Anyway she was very pleasant and all went well for about 10 mins into the small talk when this happened.
BTG: So Gary tells me that you all are from the same place
Me: Well we're both from the Caribbean.
BTG: Do you live close to each other?
Me: We live on separate islands
BTG: And they're all part of Jamaica?
Me: Nooooo, they're all part of the Caribbean. Jamaica is just one of the islands in the Caribbean, where I come from Trinidad is another island and where Gary comes from St. Vincent is another one. There are many different islands.
BTG: *Silence* (I could almost hear the crickets chirping while her brain processed the info I just imparted on the Caribbean) *She recovers* I've never been out of London I imagine the weather there must just be beautiful.
Me: It's very hot
BTG: I'm so jealous of you all, I could just imagine waking up every day on a lovely palm hut on the beach like the natives do there

I just got silent at that point. She is clearly a victim of TMTV (Too much television). Gary saw my face and stepped in to explain to her that not everyone lives near the coast and people have proper houses etc. But I mean come on, they've been dating for months now, even if she didn't know before she could have picked that up somewhere during the course of the relationship.

The final straw came during dinner. The food of course, was excellent (the man is a chef after all). She barely ate anything. I asked her if she thought the food was too spicy and she said that she was watching her weight and if she ate everything that Gary cooked she'd weigh 2 tons and then she said "I know you wouldn't understand. It's ok for you black women to be big. It's expected. But I have to watch my figure"

I think things went downhill from there because I couldn't make myself make the effort to be nice to her any more. I spent the rest of the evening eating everything, I mean EVERYTHING and talking about how fabulous it was over and over and over again. And she ended up eating dessert. I'd like to think I did that by tempting her skinny behind.

So at the end of the debacle he was telling me that I shouldn't judge her by the night, that she really is very lovely etc. And I told him that it was incredibly ironic that

He claims to love curves and his "ideal woman" is a twig
He's a Chef and his "ideal woman" doesn't eat
His "ideal women" doesn't care enough to find out where he comes from

I can't imagine what they have in common. I can't imagine that she fulfills him. And I've decided not to like her. Punto finale

***

I'm going away for the weekend on a coach trip. The Prince refuses to tell me where but I don't mind. I think it will be a wonderful distraction

Please No, Not In Trinidad

2008-01-30T09:09:00.000Z

Things are moving swiftly in Wedding Central.

A bit too swiftly for my liking. Things are already getting out of control. I can already tell that this wedding is not going to be the wedding of my dreams, but a overseas planning nightmare.

If I could have my way I would go to any Breezes resort (Curacao most preferably) where they do the wedding for you with my mother and sister, his mother and sister and four friends (2 of his and 2 of mine) get married on the beach and have a really small and intimate dinner afterwards. It won’t be labour intensive, it will be relaxing, it will be simple and beautiful.

What I am going to end up with is a 150-person extravaganza of epic proportions in Trinidad in some venue that I’m going to have to find myself, decorate myself, find a caterer for, find a florist for and find a DJ for.

I could do without that stress to be perfectly honest. I’ve watched enough Bridezillas to know that big weddings are big headaches. We wanted to avoid that. We wanted to keep things simple. We wanted to keep costs down so that we could buy our first home (Because really what is the point of spending thousands of dollars feeding people). We wanted to not have it in Trinidad.

In Trinidad when you’re getting married people get insulted if they don’t get invited. Weddings are massive affairs involving everyone who has ever met you in their life and then some. God forbid you forget one of your distant relations (pumpkin vine family) who you see once a year, if ever!!!!!!! And they descend upon you and bad talk your dress, your decorations, the food, anything, everything and they eat and eat and drink and drink and then they leave and you don’t see them until the next wedding.

I admit that not everyone is like that but seriously so many of the people who end up being invited don’t really care about you or your relationship or your future happiness. So why, why, why, why, why make them a part of the memories of your day? Is it not better to have just a few people who you KNOW really love and care about you?

In Trinidad we’re also going to have to deal with the stress of deciding who is going to marry us and whether it’s going to be in the Anglican (English Catholic) or the Roman Catholic Church. You would not believe how big an issue this is. One group of people will be very pissed off…

We also have to deal with the North vs South issue. I know Trinidad is a small island but we still have issues. I’m from South Trinidad where people are warm and friendly and he’s from North Trinidad where people are ummm… not (lol). But South people get annoyed when Town people put functions in Town because they feel that it is always expected that they should be the ones to travel in because Town is better than South. And I understand that because hey – I’m from South and I griped like that too. And some of my family is from Deep South too – Siparia, Fyzabad, La Brea so that distance makes it even worse. And of course the Town people think anything past the light house is uncivilised and don’t really venture into South and would probably get lost because they’re so damned ignorant - we have to know Town but they don’t have to know anywhere outside their back yard. They even think Central Trinidad is South. They’re hopeless (Do you see my North/South prejudice coming out there?).

Basically I could do without all that drama.

I spoke to my mother briefly on the issue and while she did say in the end of the conversation “I will support you whatever you decide” she did make it pretty clear that I should have it in Trinidad and actually told me that if I chose to have my wedding a certain Church (one of the two mentioned above) I should not get married in Trinidad. Yep, she said that. And my sister sent in an e-mail "I know you always wanted a quiet wedding but the family would be crushed so much, especially both grandfathers"

So there you have it... What is a Bride-to-Be to do? (I just basically keep saying "bride-to-be" to myself over and over and that seems to pick my spirits up and make me smile. I know, I'm mushy and sappy but so what)

Dana's Engaged!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-01-27T16:34:00.000Z

ThePrince has returned

And...*drumroll please* ...

HE JUST ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM

And...*drumroll please* ...

I SAID "YES"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dana's Engaged!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He said "I wanted to wait until your ring is sized and until we aren't naked but I am looking at you now and you're so beautiful and I can't wait another second to ask you - 'Will you be my wife?'"

And I started to cry.

Then he told me, that he asked my mom for permission when I was home and that my sister bought the ring in the U.S. and brought it home over Christmas and that he took my ring to check the size but it takes 3 weeks to size it and then swore that he would get down on one knee and propose when it came.

BUT I DON'T CARE...

My proposal was real and heartfelt and beautiful and perfect.

And I am so happy right now...

I'm engaged!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Bad, The Good, The Better, The Best, The Better Than Best and A Little Video

2008-01-24T09:56:00.001Z

Yesterday was one of the worst days I've had for a long time. I'm in my days of redness so I'm bloated, grouchy, sensitive and hormonal and to be perfectly honest slightly depressed. I could write about what made me have such an awful day yesterday but one of things is very embarrassing so we'll skip that - and I have decided to cheer myself up by doing highlights so I focus on some of the more promising aspects of my day. Let's do a scale...

THE BAD. Out of sheer desperation and loneliness (TNLBF left me out in the cold) and despite my better judgment (in my defence I did try to cancel) I agreed to have dinner with Gary and his new girlfriend. Oh yes, he has one of those. They've been together for about 5 months. He thinks that's long term. The girlfriend and the dinner are going to get a post of their own when I have the time. Suffice it to say that the best thing about the night was the food.

THE GOOD. Thanks to the assistance of my friends I am still winning the Pitiful Song Game. The Prince has put up a good fight and was ahead of me at a point with songs like "Four Seasons of Loneliness" by Boyz II Men, "Two Occasions" by Babyface and "Missing You" by all those people who miss Notorious B.I.G and Natalie Cole's "I Miss You Like Crazy". But I had Natalie Cole's "No Plans For The Future", Mary J Blige's "I'm Going Down" (LaLa I Loooooooove You) and most importantly, the unbeatable most fabulous "When Bert's Not Here" a la Sesame Street (Thank You Gary). ThePrince is starting to cotton on that I'm cheating though so now we have to sing a verse or chorus of the songs we're putting forward. I have a great song today (still cheating - it's from Tori) which I've been listening to all morning so that I can sing it later. The things we do for love ... (or maybe it's for winning. I'm not sure but it's a wonderful distraction)

THE BETTER. It's Thursday. I only have to live 3 more days without my Prince. I spoke to him on the phone yesterday for over an hour and I can't wait!!!!!!

THE BEST. MySpiritualGuideAndConscience wrote to me yesterday in an e-mail in black and white (so I have evidence and not only did I save it, I forwarded it to my 2 other e-mail accounts just in case) that she "may have a girl crush" on me. Why is this the best news???? I have absolutely no idea. In fact it's a little bit weird that she wrote it and I like it ... but all I know is that it tickled me pink yesterday.

THE BETTER THAN BEST. My MamaBear called me this morning. She always puts some joy in my day!!!!!!! She loved the presents I sent for her with ThePrince and she loved spending time with ThePrince. He was there for about three (3) hours and they had a good time and SHE LIKES HIM!!!!!!! She was always nice to him (but then she is always nice to our boyfriends often hiding what she really thinks), but I think she was still a bit cautious, watchful. I think he's IN now though, which makes me happy since I've made a mental decision to marry him when he asks.

Hmmm...focusing on the happy things actually have me smiling now. Well look at that!!!! Hormones be damned I'm going to have a good day today!!!!!!!!!!

The Pitiful Song Game

2008-01-21T15:50:00.000Z

As a follow-up to what's below I have to write about "The Pitiful Song Game"

ThePrince and I are playing it right now. We have to come up with the sappiest, mushiest song ever that describes how we feel now that we're apart. The person with the saddest song gets to boast that they miss the other person more (Big prizes here - we go for the big stakes).

It's actually quite hilarious. I didn't know some of them and had to go and look up the lyrics and oh my - some of it is really just ... absolutely freaking depressing.

I'm winning right now with the lyrics to the song The End Of The World
Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye

Other contenders have been in order from best to worst:

Gilbert O'Sullivan's Alone Again, Naturally (I promise to treat myself and visit a nearby tower and climbing to the top will throw myself off)
Hank Williams' I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry (And as I wonder where you are
I'm so lonesome I could cry)
Tamia's Officially Missing You (All I do is lay around - two ears full of tears)
LeeAnn Rimes' Blue ( Tears fill my eyes 'till I can't see. Three o'clock in the mornin, here am I sitting here so lonely)
Klymaxx's I Miss You (There's no other way to say it and I can't deny it)
R. Kelly's I Can't Sleep (Hey! I really can't sleep)
Britney Spears' Baby One More Time (I must confess that my loneliness is killing me noooooooow)
Robin Thicke's Lost Without You (Yep, Can't Help Myself).
Al Greene's How Can You Mend A Broken Heart
Blackstreet's Don't Leave (If you take your love away from me I'll go crazy)

Help me stay on top. Tell me your favourite sappy "I love you song" that fits into our little "away from each other" scenario

I Survived

2008-01-21T10:57:00.000Z

So I have survived the weekend. My first weekend without my baby.

Thanks in no small part to:

My online buddies who distracted me with e-mails and convos - SpritualGuideandConscience, MostGorgeousFriend, Tori, PBF (Prince's Best Friend)
My MamaBear and Aunty who called to cheer me up
TNLBF who called me to call me "Milk Chocolate Bear" and "Dana Wumba" (It wasn't the same but thanks for trying)
My Fitness Instructor who gave me some pain to serve as a distraction to take my mind off my sorrow

I feel a little better now. Being at work is a blessing and I will try to hit the gym this week as often as I can to limit my time at home.

Sleep is a problem though. It takes me ages to nod off. Every noise scares me and when I do drop off, when I roll and I don't feel him I jerk awake only to remember that he's not there. That first night I actually got up to look for him because sometimes he falls asleep in the living room and I wake him up and bring him inside. Too sad.

I had no lunch or fruit for work today because he normally does that, and I forgot to do it myself. I realised that I can't cut a pineapple to save my life and that I hate taking out the garbage.

I never, in my life thought that I would be this pathetic over a man who is gone for a week, who I see every day of my life. I really think he is going to be the man I marry (I have said this before though with someone else so you can't hold me to it)

My Prince Has Gone...Far, Far Awaaaaaayyyyyyy

2008-01-19T19:57:00.000Z

My Prince has left me. For a week. To go back to Trinidad to see his family and sort out his work permit.

I knew he was going. I've known it for months. I've been buying little things for him to take my mom (and his mom and sister). I packed his suitcase. I thought I was prepared. I went to the library yesterday to get reading material to occupy myself. I cleaned the flat yesterday. so I wouldn't have to see his stuff lying around all week, making me sad.

But still, this morning at the airport I watched him walk into the Departure Lounge and then past where I could see and I stood there and started to cry. Like a fool. In public. And I left my shades home. Anyway, I went to the Ladies and pulled myself together and came home. And I started to cry all over again.

I swear, it's like London knows he's gone and is mourning with me. It rained all day.

The flat is so empty. Every thing is so clean. And it's staying clean. There's no one here to mess it up. I go inside and then I come back out and nothing's changed. And it's so quiet. No PS2; No PSP, No Sports, No Top Gear. It's like some kind of alternate reality.

The walls were closing on me. I decided to go out to the grocery - get supplies. Manage to survive the trip without crying. Every time I passed something that I hate that he would normally throw in the trolley I smiled a little to myself. And then I got back home and started clearing out the fridge and I felt sad all over again.

Every week we have a "mock argument" when it's time to clear the fridge. Basically ThePrince doesn't believe in expiry dates. I most certainly do though. I am firm believer that after the expiry date food should not be eaten and food in the fridge longer than 3 days has to be thrown away. He thinks I'm wasteful and that expiry dates are a "guide" and not an absolute and that eating "questionable" food is how you "strengthen your stomach". So we clear out the fridge together. I throw something out and he says "Baby this is still good!!!!!! Don't throw that away" and we play-fight about it and he takes a spoon and starts eating stuff to show me it's still good and insists he's going to eat the expired food before next cleaning day. It's a thing we have!!! It's cute. I missed it.

I miss him. I miss everything. No one has kissed or cuddled me since 11:00a.m. today. I haven't heard the words "Milk Chocolate Bear" either or "Dana Wumba" or "Baby" or "Miss James". I keep expecting to see him or hear him.

I know he'll be back in a week. But I haven't been in this flat without him and I feel like a piece of me is missing. And I remember what London was like without him and I hate that. I love him so much.

I'm sad, people. I need hugs!!!!!

What a Conundrum?

2008-01-15T10:23:00.000Z

We all know I love my bosses. I write it all the time. And to start off with, I loved my job. When I left the fiery pits of hell I thought I needed some time to recover from the burnout, find myself again and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I figured that the best way to do this would be to get away from the tarnish of the large corporate experience and work for a smaller company.

And all my friends said I wouldn't be able to do it; that I'd hate it; that it would stifle me; that I was the big business type. But then 6 months passed, and then a year. And believe me it's all fine. It would be wrong of me to say that I am unhappy here. I most certainly am not. We laugh all time time, and get along very well and I feel very comfortable here.

I'm just bored to tears.

When I first started I was implementing their system and making procedural changes and doing my Recruitment Exams to get Qualified. Now, I've passed my exams; the system is running smoothly; my colleagues love it so there's no more resistance or negativity and my role has become a more Recruitment-centred one, which is fine - but I AM BORED.

The days drag. I can pretty much predict every second of every day and do my job in my sleep. What's funny is that because my bosses are not really into technology they think I'm doing something wonderful. But compared to what I know I can do this is just - basic.

I invent work to do - I'm always looking to streamline procedures or improve the system. And then when there is nothing else I do other things. I won "Best Online Tutor" because I was logging on to that forum and on those kids' backs every minute last semester because I have nothing to do. I watched the whole Season 2 of Heroes at work this year (Shame). I play Thief of Hearts and Queen's Jewels and RSVP, not to mention online sudoku or updating my blog (Gasp - much like I'm doing now). I'm biding time, twiddling my thumbs, counting down, waiting for some kind of break from the monotony

I said to my boss last week "I'm bored. Can you please give me some work to do?" and I suggested some potential projects. He told me we'd talk about it this week. I reminded him again yesterday. He's just not bothered.

I should be happy that I get paid to scratch my bum but it's starting to disturb me more and more. I want to feel like I'm using my potential. I want to feel tired at the end of the work day. I want to have to do something special to stand out of a crowd. I want to learn new things. I want to work with more people my own age (I'm the youngest person here by decades). And I think I may be ready again to be part of a larger team.

That having been written, I am concerned that:

I am glamorising the corporate world (I know not everywhere is the fiery pits of hell but still)
I'll get there and I'll hate it and wish I was back here and it will be too late
I won't be able to make myself stand out and I'll want to be back here where I'm special all the time just because I'm me
The corporate world doesn't want me and won't take me *a tear, a tear*
I'll turn back into that overworked, stressed out, competitive, fire-breathing monster forged by the fiery pits of hell (That would be a very, very bad thing)

So, I need some advice. I have questions:

My bosses just applied for my work permit in September/October last year. I got it in November. Is it rude/ungrateful/disrespectful and horrible of me to leave before a year? What about if I leave in August?
Should you leave a job before you are truly unhappy there? Put another way - Is boredom a good enough reason to leave your job if everything else is perfect?
Is a positive and pleasant working environment more important than what you do in the environment?
Am I being a nerdy loser? I mean, who wants MORE work
Is it wrong of me as a Christian not to use fully the talents given to me by God (see The Parable of the Talents)

So weigh in please. I have about 15 days left within which I can either start wheels moving toward a change in job this year.

Help Me (That especially means you - LaLa, Tori, SpiritualGuideandConscience, TNLBF and SisterBear). I know everyone else is too busy preparing for Carnival to give a sh*t - but I love you all any way :-)

"You Know You Are ... You're Sh*t"

2008-01-10T09:22:00.000Z

Every Wednesday ThePrince and I have “Date Night”. Yes, I know we live together and see each other all the time and so technically are “dating” every second of every day but when we’re at home he’s in one room, I’m in another and we’re doing different things half the time so it’s nice to have some set aside time where we put aside everything else and focus on each other. Right before the New Year I suggested that we could spend more time together as a couple if we got involved in each other’s interests (That was one of the days I was working from home and had just finished watching Dr. Phil - Damn you Dr. Phil).

ThePrince got really excited by that idea and the next thing I knew I was an Arsenal Football Club member with my very own club card, scarf and T-shirt, and then when I recovered from the shock and blinked again we had tickets for an Arsenal vs Tottenham match on one of our date nights. I tried to explain to him that if I was joining any club it would be Chelsea but he challenged me name 3 players on the team and then when I couldn't dismissed me by saying that I can't base my club on one player and that I lived in North London and Chelsea is West.

Now I’m by no means a sporty person. In fact, the reason why ThePrince and I have two TVs is so that I don’t have to be subjected to Sky Sports at all. That having been said, I have been a football girlfriend before (Now for all you Americans out there, every time I type “football” think “soccer”). The person I dated before ThePrince was an absolute fanatic and so I watched him play Intercol (Schools’ Football Championship) when we were younger and then as we matured he joined his bank’s football side so I spent many weekends trekking around wherever they were playing and being his number one cheerleader. He also got me lots of football jerseys from his favourite international clubs so we could “match” (resist the urge to vomit) – some of which I still have (Don’t tell ThePrince). I have also gone to matches to support my country (maybe twice). But, every time I’ve gone to football I had something invested, a reason to go out and cheer and support but What the hell do I care about the Carling Cup and whether Arsenal beats Tottenham!!!!!!

I was briefed by ThePrince that I cared A LOT because this was a VERY IMPORTANT game because of the rivalry between Arsenal (my team) and Tottenham which I gather is because somebody encroached on somebody else’s territory way back when. If you really care you can click here. I did not understand how serious the thing was until I got there. These Brits really take their football seriously. They are intensely passionate and if you support Arsenal you can never support Tottenham and vice versa . I learnt from the guy next to me that "YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR COUNTRY BUT YOU CANNOT CHANGE YOUR CLUB" and that the only time club rivalries are set aside is when England is playing (E.g.: World Cup)

To try and explain the atmosphere to you I'll tell you four (4) things:

It was a "home" game - in Arsenal's Emirates Stadium
75% of the attendees were Arsenal fans
The Tottenham fans needed to be escorted in and out of the Stadium by police and were surrounded by a heavy police presence for the duration of the match
The Tottenham fans had separate toilets and concession stands

After texting TNLBF to let him know of my trauma, I decided to make the best of things and try to "enjoy" the game - mostly because I needed to do something to distract myself from the cold that was freezing my body from the outside in. I was wearing my coat, and scarf and gloves, but I could still feel those tremors that start in your belly and go all the way down your spine. I mean really people who goes to watch football in an open stadium on a January night? Mad dogs and Englishmen ... that's who

Fast forward to this morning. My feet hurt and I am hoarse from shouting (and maybe from the weather as well). I ended up having the most amazing time!!!!!!! I embraced the Arsenal spirit and as an Arsenal fan got to do some amazing things like:

Singing "We love you Arsenal" and "One Arsene Wenger" (who apparently is the coach)
Shouting "Come on Arsenal" and "Red Army" while doing the quick clap in rhythm along with 40,000 plus other people in the second half when we were down a goal
Booing the Tottenham line up
Booing every time Tottenham touched the ball
Pointing at the Tottenham fans and yelling "Who are you?"
Making rude gestures (my favourite one being mimicking the act of giving someone a hand job in the direction of the Tottenham fans) to show that I thought the fans were tossers
Singing "You know you are, you're shit" to the Tottenham fans after they missed an easy goal
Screaming, hugging and high-fiving strangers when we scored (Did you see how I wrote "we" there?)
Standing up with my arms outstretched to the sky every time someone started the chant "If you hate Tottenham. Stand Up! Stand Up!" (ThePrince warned me in advance though that I had to get my ass up every time someone said it unless I wanted to get my ass kicked and the fans get seriously upset if you don't stand up)

It is amazing rush and feeling of "brotherhood" doing those things. You can actually hear some of the chants and songs here. And the fact that there are ladies who are into it as much as the men is icing on the cake.

In Trinidad we are so polite. We want our team to win but if the other team is playing well we still clap and give them kudos. This way is so much better. It was very liberating.

But I think I had too much of a good time because ThePrince was terribly impressed. He kept looking at me with pride all through and told me on the way home that from my initial reaction he thought I was going to hate it but I really "warmed up".

And then ... he suggested that we make this a monthly event (since I enjoyed it so much). What have I done? His little face was so lit up that I could hardly refuse. I guess I'll be embracing the red and white.

The things we do for love...

In case you wondering the final result was a draw - 1 all. And since I've embraced the red and white I won't write that the other team deserved to win because they were more motivated, had more possession, managed to hold on to the ball for longer, created more opportunites, were more aggressive in their offence and shot for the goal more - and that our one goal was a lucky one. Nope, I'm gonna write instead "We'll get those dirty Tottenham bastards next time!!!!!!! Red Army forever!!!!!!!!!"

What Does It Say?????

2008-01-08T21:39:00.000Z

I opened the CD today.

There was only 1 thing on it. A MS Word Document.

10kb

And this is what is says verbatim:

"ASKERLIK ILK ERTELEME BOLUMUNE

Ilgili makama,

Yukaridaki isim ve adresi gecen lokantamizda Mustafa Yesilgoz part time elemani olarak calismaktadir.Gorevi haftada 16 saat lokantamizda garsonluk ve sef yardimcisidir.

Gerekli islemlerin yapilmasini saygilarimla arz ederim,

Saygilarimla"

Yeah, I know...What the hell?????? I've been trying all afternoon to translate it on every single free translation site. I can't even figure out what language it is

Help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have to know what it says!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was just joking before, but suppose it really is some deep mystery...

Riddle Me Ree

2008-01-07T11:53:00.000Z

To All My Caribbean Readers:

I know I just posted below but here's a riddle for you:

A goth chick, a Rasta man and an old white lady are standing under a bus stop. One of them is playing "Ram Ram". Which one of them is it?

The Answer: The goth chick

No I'm not kidding!!!!!!!

On Saturday I went to get the bus from the gym stood under the bus shelter and heard "Ram Ram". I swore it was the Rasta and all I was thinking was "Thank God people can't understand what this song is about"

Next thing this pale white girl with ginger hair, all dressed in black with multiple piercings, black lipstick and heavy black makeup started scyanting under the bus shed and playing with her phone. First I was traumatised, then it was all I could do to hold my laughter in. I wish I filmed it on my phone. The Rasta was just looking at her and shaking his head. Hilarious.

She got on the same bus as me, so for the duration of my journey home I also got to hear "Ninja Bike" by Tanya Stephens, "Stab Up The Meat" by Lady Saw and "Pump Up Her Pum Pum" by Sizzla Kolanji

Only in London.... Can you believe it???

To All Nosy Non-Caribbean Readers:

You were supposed to stop reading after the first line. I wrote this post with no explanations or hyperlinks but then I felt sorry for you *smile*

"Ninja Bike", "Stab Up The Meat", "Pump Up Her Pum Pum" and "Ram Ram" are all songs belonging to the dancehall genre and all of them are either sexually explicit or have sexual connotations. I'm not going to bother to post snippets of lyrics here because then I'd have to translate them and I'm trying to keep the blog PG but you can see those previous 2 hyperlinks and try to decipher those lyrics as best as you can if you're really nosy. I'll give you a hint. Do you really need another?

Ice Skating and A Secret CD

2008-01-07T11:24:00.001Z

This morning I am floating on air and glowing with happiness. Firstly because I just found out that my kids that I tutored online this semester won the prize for “Best Group”. I am so proud, I felt the tears pricking my eyelids. I want to hug them, they worked so hard. Secondly, I had a FABULOUS weekend. Busier than normal, but extremely enjoyable. I had dinner in a restaurant along the River Thames on Saturday, Church on Sunday morning and then yesterday evening I went ice-skating (or my version of ice-skating called “doing everything possible not to fall on my arse on the ice”) with my two favourite London men – ThePrince and TNLBF.

Ice skating always makes me feel so inadequate. These little kids zip around me like professionals while I’m trying my hardest not to move too far from the railing. ThePrince says that it’s because their centre of gravity is lower (the things we come up with to make ourselves feel better) but I think they’re so good at it because they’re not afraid of falling so they take risks and give it their all. I am very much afraid of looking like a prat though so I’ll stick to the railing. Suffice it to say my power does NOT lie in the sporting arena.

But while we’re on the subject of powers, I think I am one step closer to discovering mine. On Saturday I was looking for the TV remote and realized it had slipped under the bed. I called ThePrince to help me move the bed and locate it and while we were under the bed we found a makeshift envelope with a CD in it (pictures to follow). I got really excited and wanted to pop it in my laptop immediately to see what it was but ThePrince thought it might be a virus and took it from me. I found it this morning though and fully intend to open it later. It could be the key to unlocking my powers. I’m rushing home today before him to see what it says.

A Super Resolution, for a Super New Year

2008-01-01T14:14:00.000Z

So, it's a New Year. I brought in my New Year very quietly, with MyPrince, both of us doing the rituals that we would normally do if we were at home with our families. For me, that meant channeling my inner Mama Bear to clean the flat from top to bottom, make pigeon peas pelau with out secret family ingredients, turning off the lights 5 mins before the New Year and then turning them on at midnight, opening the windows to let the New Year in and then jumping around like a lunatic after saying some prayers. For him, that meant putting on the table a little bit of rice, sugar, flour, peas, salt, bread, milk and money (symbolising the things God provided last year and will continue to provide in the New Year or something like that) facing East (something to do with sunrise and the direction the New Year comes in) and praying. He's not really big on jumping.

Which brings me to my New Year's Resolution.

This week there's been a Heroes marathon on SciFi. I've been watching 3 episodes religiously every night. I didn't even know about it until ThePrince came to London and was all hopped up on it and my sister had a picture up on MSN of a strange-looking Chinaman and something about an ancestral sword (Yes, she's very strange).

Anyway, now I'm hooked. And Heroes has led me to my New Year's Resolution. I am certain that I have special powers, or am meant to have special powers. I don't know if I mentioned it here, but on my 13th, 16th, 18th, 21st (and lately even 25th) birthdays I have woken up expecting said powers to be revealed. And I think that is what the problem is, I've been doing it all wrong. Maybe my powers are not to be revealed but I have to work at discovering them. Which I will, in the New Year.

I, Dana James endeavour, like Peter Petrelli (my favourite Hero despite his annoying haircut - he always has this lock of hair in his face and I was really happy when the evil Sylar was about to eat his brain and cut a lock of hair as well) to discover and harness my powers this year 2008.

I mean, I could make the usual generic resolutions if you want me to, like:

I resolve to go to Church EVERY Sunday
I resolve to go to the gym at least 3 times a week
I resolve to send my grandmother (the one who doesn't have the Internet) a handwritten letter once a month
I resolve to make more friends in London (I'm starting to realise that Prince excepted I don't really have any)
I resolve to figure out what I'm doing with my life and go to school (or something) to save me from the boredom I'm currently experiencing

But why should I make those resolutions when I can think BIG.

And I want you to know that I am already making headway. Just last week I jumped with a start from a very deep sleep at some ridiculous hour of the morning and instead of rolling over and going to sleep something propelled me to go outside and log on to the Internet and as soon as I logged on, there was MostGorgeousFriend (at a more ridiculous hour her time) and she said "How did you know that I couldn't sleep and I needed you?" Aha!!!!!!!! My powers awoke me to help a friend in need...

Also earlier in the year my mom was in the back room of our house, which is my room, and she swore that my picture (which is really huge and on the wall) smiled at her. Well, it's a smiling picture, but it smiled bigger and then I called 1 second later. Aha again!!!!!!!

So I must work on developing these powers. Unlike Hiro Nakamura I have no ancestral sword to help me focus these powers but as he so rightly said "It's not the sword, it's the man" (or woman in this case)

If I find my power, I will find my life's path.

I will keep you posted.

Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!

I Survived

2007-12-27T07:28:00.000Z

So I survived my first Christmas, without my family.

I was determined not to cry on the day (I cried on Christmas Eve after returning from a Mass that was so dry and unlike the warm, beautiful Mass we have at home) so I didn't but let's just say that it's not something I'll be doing again next year.

I really missed my mom. I can't even put into words how much. It was very intense because it seemed that she was in my every movement and action. Every thing I did reminded me of her - from vacuuming to baking bread and sweetbread, to telling ThePrince "I just cleaned there. Can we try to keep the house clean!!! Christmas must come into a clean house"

Yep, I am my mother and proud of it!!!!

ThePrince and I tried really hard to make Christmas very special, me for him - and him for me. He did a really good job too. He knows I'm from a big family and usually get a million presents so he had lots of things for me to open so I wouldn't feel sad - Chloe Narcisse, Flowers by Kenzo, Harry Potter 5 disc collection, Northern Lights trilogy of books (the books The Golden Compass is based on) and this really intense phone that plays music according to mood and pace and can do many magical things that I can't even get into right now because I don't understand the half of them...

He also went out and bought DVDs of all the movies we would normally see at home on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day to make sure I didn't feel left out. So we watched "It's A Wonderful Life" and "My Fair Lady" (My Favourite Movie of ALL Time) and "The Grinch" and "By The Light of the Silvery Moon". It was awesome. A really beautiful day with just a tinge of sadness...

Anyway please find below some of the pictures from the day ...

My Christmas Tree

Presents Under the Tree

My First Attempt At The Christmas Cookies
I Burnt Them To A Crisp
Hey! I Never Made The Cookies In A Gas Oven Before
Yes, I realised after that I could have looked up the Gas Mark Conversion Online

Cookies Fit For Santa

Dana Makes Sweetbread

Table Set For Two
A Cosy Christmas Dinner

The Christmas Feast
We Decided To Do A Hybrid - TriniEnglish
English - Steamed Vegetables, Roast Potatoes, Corn on The Cob, Cava
Trini - Pastelles, Pigeon Peas, Sorrel
The Turkey could fit into either category

I hope everyone had a great Christmas!!!!!!!!!

Sweat Cake, Left Hand Fruit Cake

2007-12-19T09:31:00.000Z

In Trinidad when a man goes completely head over heels, bazodee (crazy) over a woman, especially one that he wouldn't normally fall for; or seems oblivious to any wrong about her; or seems hooked, trapped and tied, people often say that the woman fed the man "sweat rice" or made him some "left hand dumplings" which is some kind of obeah (magic or spell).

I think "left hand dumplings" are self explanatory. I'm guessing their magical relationship - building powers stem from the fact that one would normally knead the flour to make the dumplings with the right hand instead of the left... Who knows? Certainly not me. I don't make or eat dumplings.

But sweat rice is a whole other story. Basically if you are in love with a man, and want him to fall madly in love with you, you need to boil a pot of rice. When the rice is cooked you strain it and then put it back in the pot when it's still hot, get naked, stoop over the pot and let your "womanly juices" (please use your imagination I'm trying to keep this PG) flow into the pot and mix with the rice which the object of your affection will then eat which will tie him to you forever.

I'm not making this up. It's a Caribbean legend, or maybe a Trinidadian legend. Google it.

But I do have questions:
"What happens if you eat some yourself?" I'm guessing you would turn into a self-obsessed narcissist.

"What if someone else who you are not interested in eats some?" And not just someone you don't want to shag, suppose your mom, dad or sister comes over and sees the pot and samples some of what you cook. I mean that happens all the time. What happens then?

"How come every time someone talks about this kind of obeah it's always a woman who's preparing the dumplings and the special rice." Yeah, why so sexist, can a man not make sweat rice as well?"

And finally "Doesn't stooping over a steaming hot pot scald the "womanly area"?"

Anyone who can shed some light on the matters above, either from previous experience or because they are going to go try this out tonight please send some illumination to me via e-mail.

ThePrince seems to think that not only is a man capable of "sweating" food but, that the food a man can "sweat" is not just limited to rice.

Yesterday I had a fruit cake delivered to me here at work. Traditional Trinidadian Black Cake. I could smell the rum. Now, I don't eat black cake. Never have and probably never will. I don't know why so I took it home. ThePrince loves black cake. He's been talking about it for weeks. I carried it home and his eyes lit up. He asked me where it came from. I told the truth. Gary made it. The light died out of his eyes and he responded "I doh wah no sweat cake. He probably mix that batter with his lef' han' an' all too"

The man refused to eat it. He continued "Dat man-on-man ting doh wok for me, nah. I good dey" I just shrugged it off and went inside to watch TV and there I fell asleep.

This morning the cake was cut and a big chunk was missing. He couldn't help himself.

Stay tuned....

Did Gary "sweat" the cake?
Is ThePrince going to fall in love with TheChef?
Will TheChef return ThePrince's emotions?
Will Gary eat his own cake?

All this and more on "As The Blog Turns"....

Happy 30th Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-12-16T20:14:00.000Z

There is a new post below this one but this has to stay on top for a few days as an attempt to make amends for my forgetfulness.

This weekend I thought I was being all pro-active and went to one of the blogs I frequent to check the owner's birthday and send her an advance e-card.

But when I got there I realised that her birthday had already passed...

Weeks ago.

I am so ashamed. We e-mail back and forth pretty regularly and she never said anything or made me feel bad/guilty about forgetting and never did she even bring it up. That's worse. I feel terrible, especially since I know in my heart that she is the kind of nice person who would never forget anyone's birthday.

So as an attempt to make amends she gets her own "Happy 30th Birthday!!!!!!!!!!" post

You're probably thinking "Whatever! You just met her online. You barely even know her!!!" but I'll always remember a line from a Streetcar named Desire about the kindness of strangers. It's true. Sometimes you just need someone who is non-judgmental, who can empathise with a situation, who will listen. And in my opinion, someone who does that (without getting or expecting something in return) is a friend.

She really weirds me out though because some of the things she writes are as if they come from my own brain. Go and read this. My colours this Christmas are silver and white.

Anyway "Happy Belated Birthday!!!!!"

Dear Santa

2007-12-16T15:34:00.000Z

Dear Santa,

When I was eleven (11) years old my mother told me that you didn't really exist (because she was concerned that I was eleven and still didn't figure it out and was still watching "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" and getting misty).

And so since then I haven't asked you for anything. I just make broad hints to my mother and sister who fill my stocking (Yes, we still have stockings in our house)

But this year I want to ask for something extra-special. I'd like my best-friend, MostGorgeousFriend to move to London asap. I fear that we are growing apart and despair that I am unable to be there for her when she needs me. I don't know how much power you have and if your repertoire extends to mind manipulation or legilimency but see what you can do.

I would also like my mummy and sister to move as well but I know that isn't a feasible request this year so let's start with her.

If this is too much for you please let me know and start working on the other items on my Christmas list this year:

1 bottle Chloe Narcisse perfume
1 iPod Video
Enough commitment to go to the gym 3 times a week for the rest of my contract
1 new pair of trainers
Any book written by Eric Jerome Dickey
1 pair earmuffs
1 "Love Actually" DVD
Any Jewellery as always is appreciated

You can see from the list above that I am extremely easy to please and take pleasure in simplicity. I was also a very good girl this year - but then you already know that don't you...

Looking forward to a very Merry Christmas

Dana

xoxo

Little Tidbits & Paying To Sweat

2007-12-10T09:35:00.000Z

This blog has been sorely neglected.

I didn't even follow up on the letter to TNLBF below to let you know who was the client who suffered because of my Menstrual Tension and the depletion of my "nice" reserves (It was the client who insisted to me that Trinidad and Barbados are the "same thing" - no comment on that. I was really pissed off)

And I didn't even mention that I purchased Ugg's (black ones of course) and they are the most comfortable footwear I have ever worn and I can't bring myself to wear any of my other shoes.

Or that the semester for my tutoring is sadly over and my kids did really well. I am so proud of (most of) them. There is a prize for best tutorial group and my fingers are crossed that they win. It will be a most excellent Christmas present for me if they do. I really enjoyed tutoring this semester it was my best so far. I was really on top of things and had time to give the slackers some motivation and individual attention and bring people as close to 100% as possible and I submitted my mark sheets waaaaaaaaaay before time and ahead of all the other tutors, so I feel smug and capable (and ready to do it all again next semester)

Or that this year I'm doing all my Christmas shopping online, and with free delivery it is the most painless and fabulous Christmas shopping I have ever done. I LOVE ENGLAND!!!!!!!!! I love www.waterstones.co.uk, www.amazon.co.uk, www.argos.co.uk, www.virginmegastore.co.uk, www.ebay.co.uk. Skybox my arse, forget that Trini money-stealing b/s

Or that someone on another blog I frequent called me an "Elitist Trini" which they meant as an insult but I absolutely loved. It tickled me from the moment I saw it to now where I'm smiling writing about it

And finally - and this is the biggest news of all - I JOINED A GYM. I - PAY - TO - SWEAT. I don't know if you understand how monumental that is. But that deserves a post all it's own. I can't promise tomorrow but maybe Wednesday. I wanted to make sure that my 7 day opt-out period was over, and things were going okay and my commitment definite before I put it down in black and white.

What I can give you today are the reasons why I hate the gym (so you will understand why this so monumental) and swore I would never again set foot in one:

Everyone is always fit, healthy and skinny and they make me feel really obese like I am the fattest person in the room and in fact in the Universe
The disdain with which these skinny specimens of perfection tend to regard mere mortals
I hate to sweat - It makes me ummm ... sweaty, which I hate, which I moved to London to avoid and it ruins my hair.
Working out always makes me lose my best features (my beautiful, beautiful boobs) FIRST before I lose weight anywhere else, which annoys me because they are the things I most want to keep
I don't see results fast enough and that depresses me because I'm an "instant" sort of girl
They insist on telling me what my weight, BMI and measurements are when I would much rather live in denial forever
Communal locker rooms and showers (more on that later)
Curtis (My "Personal Trainer" from a gym in Trinidad who got a little hands-y with me and then asked me out prompting me never to return to that gym again)

I bet you want to know now what got me all revved up and ready to overcome those obstacles...

Another day

A "Love" Letter to TNLBF

2007-11-29T10:32:00.000Z

Cara Mia,

I have seen your missed calls and heard your rudie-poo voice mail message and wish to let you know that I am most definitely not avoiding you or ignoring your calls.

I fully intend to call you back over the weekend. Why the wait? Well, it's that time of the month and I am grouchy as hell. It's taking all my energy to be nice to the people I am paid to be nice to and at the end of the day sadly I have no niceness left in my "nice box" for the people who deserve it. Trust me you do not want to be around me or talk to me (or the evil biatch masquerading as me who has overtaken my body) at this time.

At this moment I, number 1 fan and lover of Christmas am severely lacking in Christmas Spirit. I have not bought any presents, I don't have a tree, My iPod is still on a 50-50 split of Christmas and Other music when it should be 100% Christmas, I have not baked anything or planned the Christmas meal, no decorations or stockings have been put up and no curtains have been bought. This, when I am usually organised from July, so you can tell that something is very, very wrong.

But by the end of Saturday after I would have unleashed my CHRISTMAS PLAN OF ACTION and transformed my house into a Christmas Cavern and Winter Wonderland of epic proportions, I can guarantee that I will be in a much better mood.

Would it not be better for me to call you then? I think so.

In any case, it's now Thursday so at most all you will have to endure is two more days without the sound of my voice. While this will, I know, be painful, you should survive...

I'm now going to borrow from the reserve of niceness (now so small that it can now all fit in my big toe) to say "I love you" - this of course means that some client is going to get snapped at later, but never mind, you're better than them anyway.

Talk to you soon
Your
D

Where Have I Been? Good Question

2007-11-27T21:00:00.000Z

It's been almost a month.

Let me bring you up to speed. I got my work permit approval and had to go home to get something called Entry Clearance from the British High Commission in Trinidad. It was imperative that I left immediately to get everything sorted so that it would not interrupt my December running of the business.

I was home from Nov 10th to Nov 24th. Yes, there is Internet in Trinidad but suffice it to say that I could not sit long enough to get anything typed and that updating was the very last thing on my mind for a few days.

How was my trip? Bittersweet. As this is a rushed update I'll rush right into the sweet:

Seeing My Mama Bear
The 2 bedtimes I spent with my godson - story time and all
The love of my extended family - I moan about them sometimes but it is the most amazing feeling to be insulated by that kind of love and compassion when things are not 100%
Getting my Entry Clearance from the British High Commission
Catching Up with old friends (and meeting a new one for the first time)
Facing the past and realising that it is no longer important (I had a stroll through the fiery pits)
Sea baths
Wining like a skettel
Curry crab and dumplings, pelau, Peardrax, Eat It, Marios, Rituals Coffee Chillers, Royal Castle chicken laced with their special pepper, doubles from the side of the road
Being literally forced to relax

And the bitter:

Boiling hot sun, the kind that makes you immobile (I forgot how damn hot it is all the time)
Noticing that everyone had changed
Sadness over the state of my country especially crime and rising food prices (even I thought things were expensive and I was converting £s at 12:1)
Missing My Prince - I felt lost at sea, I missed him so much, Thank Goodness for Intl text messaging
The reason why I was forced to relax and the unexpected expense it incurred
Realising that Trinidad is no longer my home and I can no longer live there (more on this later)

It's almost the end of November, my iPod is not yet filled back to back with Christmas tunes and I have done almost no shopping. That of itself should give you an idea of the mess I am in. I do not even have time to update this blog

Actually I was thinking of stopping it altogether...

Does That Make Me Crazy?

2007-10-30T13:37:00.000Z

I didn’t have much of a rest this weekend or much time with The Prince. I spent most of it sorting, unpacking and organising while he was at work on both days. In the beginning I was actually quite glad that he wasn’t under my feet. Let’s just say that I am very particular about order and organisation. People have said in the past that I am anal, a perfectionist or just strange (Those people who had the pleasure of working with me KNOW what I mean).

I’ll give you an example. I have colour-coded the hangers in our closets. I have grey and the Prince has white and our clothes are hung first by garment type and then colour. So for example in The Prince’s wardrobe all the suits are together, then all the trousers, then all the long-sleeved work shirts, then the long-sleeved casual shirts, then the short-sleeved work shirts, then the short-sleeved casual shirts. And then within each of those groups the colours go black, then pinstriped, then grey, then as the rainbow – red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet with the darker colours within each hue first and then fading in to the lighter colours. Of course all the hangers must be facing inwards in the same direction.

I can imagine right now you are either killing yourself laughing, or completely aghast wondering about my mental sanity and possible Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. But rest assured I am quite fine. I just love order and tidiness and these rules and systems exist to enable us to find things as quickly as possible when we need them. (The Prince thinks it's hilarious and likes to play a game with me where he asks me where something is, I answer and he goes to look and see if it really is there. I always win)

Anyway as you can imagine the process of unpacking and repacking according to Dana-standards took some time (There are different sets of rules for different items I won’t scare you with the details) and I was completely knackered by Sunday – but hey we are now COMPLETELY unpacked and moved in thanks to my sterling efforts and I once again know where everything is.

And…after yesterday I now have a phone and broadband. And on Saturday I will have my cable back. So we’re sorted.

In other news, my symptoms of Old Lady Syndrome (OLS) seem to be diminishing and finally my boss has shaved off all his beard so things are 100% back to normal.

Now please get off the Internet take your shameful selves to your closets and get them sorted!!!!!!!!

Love It or Hate It?

2007-10-26T16:47:00.000+01:00

My symptoms of Old Lady Syndrome OLS are lessening but I am still thrilled it’s the weekend.

But today, I don’t want to write about me. I want you to settle a dispute that we have going on in the office at present.

There is a really lovely girl who does locum work for us. And I mean REALLY lovely. This girl has won the genetic lottery –slender, lovely long blonde, hair, blue eyes, gorgeous smile (looks like a Swedish milkmaid). But that’s not all, she’s impossible to hate because she has an amazing personality – always smiling, never late for work, great attitude, charming and polite and there is just something about her that’s endearing – she’s not pushy or egotistical – you want to hug her. She’s sweet. That’s the best word I can find to describe her “sweet”.

She’s tired of locuming and wants a permanent position so we’ve been sending her CV out. One of our top clients met with her and loved her but came to a pause while checking her references. The Manager where she worked before she decided to be a locum agreed that she was lovely and a great worker and punctual and all the rest but pointed out that she took about 15 days off sick due to illness, which of course is a red flag. The client called me of course, to find out why and whether or not the problem was recurrent and due to be a problem in the future – standard procedure.

I ring her up, explain what happened and ask her to clarify for me. She did. Apparently she had a prolapsed disc in the clavicle area of the spine and had to return to her home country for treatment. The 15 days were taken all together and sporadically for her to fly and recover etc. The previous employer knew this because she collapsed in the surgery so they were covertly trying to screw her over by not explaining properly the reason for her illness. In fact, they should not have even brought it up at all because she clearly did not have an absenteeism problem. It was a critical medical problem and a one-off.

I could hear her voice breaking like she was about to cry while she was explaining and then she asked me if she was going to lose the job because of that. I stepped into “mummy” mode immediately, tried to be reassuring, calmed her and told her that I would explain it to them and they would be fine. And I did explain it. And they were fine.

Half an hour later I get a call from an Unknown Male (UM) [read his parts with a heavy Arabian-type accent] who was very angry. The conversation went something like:

UM: May I speak to Dana please?

Me: Speaking

UM: I just want to say that I am very upset about what happened today

Me: Excuse me?

UM: Silvia just called me and she is very upset

Me: Ok. And you are?

UM: Her partner

Me: Ok

UM: I just want to explain the severity of her position to you *witters on about the spine and death* The practice should have ecplained it properly. They made it seem like she is constantly ill and that is unacceptable

Me: I agree and I have already straightened it out.

UM: What did you tell them?

Me: What you just said

UM: I am sorry if I sound condescending but I want to make sure you can fully appreciate the seriousness of the condition and communicate it successfully

Me: I can

UM: Good. I am going to take legal action against the previous employers should she lose this job on the basis of her reference

Me: They did not give her a bad reference. Actually the mention of her illness was the only thing said that was not absolutely glowing

UM: Nevertheless…

Me: Ok. Leave it with me. The client is still making a decision and I’ll let Silvia know in the a.m.

UM: Take my mobile number, landline and e-mail and let me know if they say that she was refused on the basis of her reference

Me: Will do

UM: Silvia is very special and she does not stand up for herself and fight. But I will fight for her. I cannot bear to have her unhappy. She really wants this job and she deserves to have everything she wants.

I admit that during our exchange I was starting to get quite a bit annoyed until he made his last statement. But from that moment, I felt him.

I thought it was so romantic and beautiful the way he was willing to stand up for her and fight her battles and how passionate he was getting about it. He even called me back 10 mins later to let me know he had all her medical documents as proof and would get them translated if it helped.

However my colleague thinks I need help because he was completely out of place to phone us and get involved, is way too domineering and as far as professional things go he should step back and leave her to it – advising her but letting her speak and deal with things herself.

What do you think?

***

She did get the job though and he sent me a lovely Thank-You e-mail

BT Still Sucks, but the New Me Loves Business Team 11

2007-10-23T17:17:00.000+01:00

Today a recorded delivery (one of those things you have to sign for) came to us from the Home Office. I thought it was a response to my work permit letter so I opened it holding my breath but it was only the return of some of the original documents we sent. At least I know the work permit has been seen and someone somewhere on Business Team 11 is working on it.

I had another battle with BT today. I called back just to see what was going on – 43 minutes on hold to be told firstly that I needed to make a deposit of £50 to be returned after 12 months of the contract had expired. The payment went through all right and then I was told that I had to repeat the process from the beginning because my request was suddenly showing “Failed”. I was almost in tears because I was on the phone for half an hour (this is after the wait) and my boss was starting to get cross. So back to the beginning. Then I was told no deposit was needed, in fact, no payment was needed at all and all I needed was to give them the best date for the technician to come and set it up. I took the first available date – Monday between 1:00p.m. and 5:00p.m. We’ll see how that goes!!! They had better not make me miss ½ day’s work for nothing. I’ll be really cross. But anything to get this done and over with…

While I was dealing with BT my boss looked at me and said “Dana, you’re too easygoing. You have to get really mad. Tell them off!!!!!! You’re frustrated” and that actually made me smile. I work so hard now to be seen as easygoing and relaxed and in control of my temper. It’s a daily, conscious decision. After I left the fiery pits of hell I was determined never again to be “the bad guy”, “the enforcer”, sending out snarky e-mails full of rules. I was determined that in my next job I would be “the nice one”, “the happy one”, “the one who smoothes things over” And yes I get frustrated and angry and sometimes I have to be firm, but I am pleased to say that I have never lost my cool at work. I go for walks, I turn my iPod on or I vent here on my blog – but I have managed thus far to accomplish my goal wand distance myself from the person I became in the fiery pits and I am so proud. That girl, she was not nice at all.

IKEA rules, BT Sucks and I Have Old Lady Syndrome

2007-10-22T11:40:00.001+01:00

The weekend is over and I don’t even feel like there really was a weekend to begin with.

We’re 90% moved in now. Just a few little things to collect. We were so busy (and tired) that the living room is now housing the suitcases brought over but not unpacked. I should really do a little bit every day but it’s 10:30a.m. and all I can think about is the end of the day so that I can go home, curl up in bed and sleep.

Yep, I’m suffering from OLS (Old Lady Syndrome). Other symptoms of OLS include dozing off in the middle of sentences, feeling to urge to pinch people’s cheeks and arms when you ask them how they are, incontinence, wearing of fuzzy bedroom slippers, loss of teeth, other people standing up on the bus to give you their seat and constantly losing one’s train of thought…(What? Where was I? Who am I? What was I just typing? Damn those symptoms…). If you think you might be suffering from OLS and need to find out more or if you are a confirmed sufferer and want to join a support group please e-mail huggabletrini@gmail.com

Yesterday we went to IKEA to get some prints etc. to personalize our home. It was good fun. I smiled all through it because ThePrince was so into it. Talking about colours and accents and what would go well with what and what he saw on TV about decorating and matching and contrasting. It was so funny because I expected him to just be present to carry out his bag-holding duties, but he was extremely involved, even more so than me. Like a kid in a candy shop. I was in awe. He’s very house-proud. In a way I never expected because when we came home I was tired but he insisted on putting everything up and seeing how it looked first before anything else (and the congratulating himself on his good taste) and then making a list of what else we need. He made a list!!!!!!!! He’s adorable… I lurve him. Too cute

In other news I just sent a scathing e-mail to BT (British Telecom). They suck worse than TSTT. WORSE!!!!!!!! (TSTT is the Telecommunication Services of Trinidad and Tobago and they are awful so saying that BT is worse is saying a lot). I managed to bypass BT thus far because I was living in a cabled area and had Virgin do my Broadband, TV and cable. However, my move to 2 streets away has placed me in a non-cabled area which sadly meant a phone call to BT. I called last week, gave in all my details and was told that someone would get back to me within 5 working days to let me know if I passed my credit check and when my line would be reconnected. Note that it’s not even a new connection. It’s a re-connection because the previous tenants had BT before. Of course 5 working days (excessive to begin with) passed and I received no call. I called back this morning and was in the queue waiting for 45 mins. Thank goodness it was a work phone and it was a speaker phone or else I would be even more irate. The first person I spoke to started the ball rolling by telling me that my address and postcode was invalid. I said “Yes, I slept on the street last night, I’m insane and I don’t know where I live”. She eventually found it after putting me on hold for another 10 mins. Then she couldn’t find my original request for service.

She transferred me to a colleague. I had to give my details all over again including the details for the credit check because the dears lost my data. I did. But what really got me is that I had to coach their member of staff through processing my credit check. “Don’t you need my mobile number?” Oh yes, thank you; “Don’t you need my date of birth?” Oh yes, thank you; “Shouldn’t you also get my previous address?” Of course, oh yes. These people are imbeciles. Completely and utterly stupid and incompetence. And I used to work in Customer Service so my patience with poor service is minimal at best. I hung up and I completely lost it. I am certain they have never received an e-mail like that before. I wish I had saved it. I opened up a huge can of can-ca-la. I REFUSE TO WAIT 5 MORE WORKING DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not when I planned in advance and made the call a week ago. I am going to go insane if this isn’t sorted by the end of tomorrow.

They have not heard the last of me (insert evil maniacal laugh here – I prefer Mwhahahahahahaha). Ok I’ve calmed down now. I’m going to do what MSSIF used to tell me to do when I was stressed in the fiery pit of hell “Breathe in Jesus, Breathe out Lord”

Something's Gotta Give

2007-10-18T10:31:00.000+01:00

And this week people...it's been the blog.

I caught this tummy bug that's been going around and had a serious bout of the runs for the last three days. In desperation I stopped eating and started feeding myself Imodium waiting for it to work itself out of my system. But the good news is that now it's gone. I'm focusing on re-hydrating myself.

Mind you I was at work for all those days because it's manically busy and I couldn't afford to stay home so my energies were focused on working through the discomfort, trying to reduce my "To-Do" lists and running back and forth to the toilet.

I'll do highlights:

Have semi-moved in to new flat. Not enough stuff has been moved but we're getting there ... slowly and painfully. On Saturday morning we moved the first set of things. Bare necessities. It was the first time ThePrince had seen the flat. I didn't sleep Friday night I was so nervous wondering if he would like it. Initially he was very blase but now that it's starting to look and feel like home I catch him proudly gazing around. The best part was buying the new things we needed together - you know: toaster, kettle, bathroom accessories etc. Not only because I love shopping but because it's such a couple-y thing to do setting up a home. And he didn't gripe for the entire day. He actually was really into the whole process. It was just - nice.
We've been dividing our time between the flat and the house. The Prince loves the Internet and cable and the flat hasn't been wired yet. I love the flat. I am totally enamoured already. I like walking from room to room. I love how it smells and how everything is mine and the huuuuuuuuge bed and I miss it when I have to go back. But until everything is set up fully I guess we'll continue to be in-between

Sexy thoughts about my boss seem to have gone away. Strangely enough I think it had less to do with his facial hair and more with his aura. He's normally happy and smiley and bouncing off the walls and since his mom's death he's been all dark and mysterious. He's back to normal now - and happily so am I

We now have a joint account for household expenses. He wanted to have a joint account for everything including income but I put my foot down. I wouldn't do it even if I was married. I had a "godfather" who was a family attorney. He died of cancer about 2 years ago. After mummy told me he was dying we called each other every week until he died and met up a couple of times and he told me to always save separately, keep my car in my name and pay for it, to acquire assets purchased before I get married that belong solely to me, to make my children the primary beneficiaries of my estate and appoint a co-Trustee in my case it will be my sister to monitor the spend before they come of age (in the case of my death) and finally to get a pre-nup. I thought it was sound advice and I intend to follow it as best as I can.

I have finished reading "Saucy Shorts for Chefs". It was quite enjoyable. I totally ignored the recipes that followed each story though.

The most beautiful sentence ever written was sent to me in an e-mail yesterday (No, not from Gary) "I love you Dana; you are very satisfying". I am going to store that in my heart and treasure it forever and take it out when I feel blue. It's original. I've never heard it anything like it before and I just think satisfying is a wonderful thing today.
On Sunday I called my grandfather because my mom told me he was ill and on bed-rest and after I spoke to him I cried because I missed him. It was like I forgot how much I love him until I heard his voice. He's so sweet and funny and macho - putting a brave face on. He told me that I was just the right tonic to make him feel better. I don't call him enough ...

So that's the news in a nutshell. Now I have to try and sneak and grade my kids who have also been sorely neglected.

Happy Insanity

2007-10-11T15:41:00.001+01:00

I had absolutely no intention of blogging today. But about half an hour ago a parcel came for me at work that I had to sign for. I said to my colleague "They must be mistaken - I haven't ordered anything" and was ready to send it back when I thought it might be something ThePrince ordered and had delivered here because he knew someone would be around to pick it up. But was it from ThePrince? No it was not...

I opened the ugly brown cardboard packaging to find a pink book called Saucy Shorts for Chefs - a collection of short stories about romance, food and chefs. And it was from *drumroll please* - My Gary (as if the title of the book didn't completely give that one away). And the reason I know it was from my Gary is because there was a note inside which said
"Sometime around this time a year ago, I don't know the exact date, I made a phone call that set in motion a chain of events that brought you into my life and made us as we are today. Happy Anniversary! From Your Chef"

And I just stared at it, reading it over and over. Then I started to cry like a fool. I came back to my blog and searched for "Gary" and discovered that the fated call was made on Oct 16th 2006 - almost a year ago - he's a few days early. But so thoughtful and so very very sweet and I've been trying to ring him since then to tell him ... well I don't know what I am going to tell him exactly ... but hopefully by the time I speak to him I would have floated down from the cloud I am on back to earth and capable of coherent speech. Right now all I can think is "Oh My God! Oh My God! Oh My God!" (I know it's taking the Lord's name in vain but it's all I'm thinking) and "Awwwwwww"

And I could not, not post this. It would be a travesty to let La-La go to sleep not knowing this (La-la is a fellow-blogger who loves Gary) and even worse to let Gary check the blog and have it go unmentioned.

***

In other news, I found out today that my boss has to remain unshaved for a month. A WHOLE MONTH. I had the thoughts again today. Now I can't even look at the man without blushing. It seems I am regressing into teenager-hood. Whatever am I going to do?

Moving On Up ... And Older Man Fantasies

2007-10-10T14:36:00.001+01:00

First things first. The bank references were completed and sent to my letting Agency and we signed on the dotted line so as far as I am concerned, everything is sorted, the flat is officially ours and we move in on Saturday!!!!!!!!!

That's one weight off my mind.

My bosses came back today. They're not doing any work-related stuff because he's still sitting shiva in mourning for his mom and there's been a steady stream of people in and out today to offer their condolences and sit with him etc. When I came in to open up this morning he was already up and at it - this despite them coming in at 2:00a.m. the same morning and his shirt was all torn (apparently part of the mourning rites) but even more importantly in keeping with the Jewish traditions he hasn't shaved since his mom's death. I hardly recognised the man.

And before I could stop myself I was thinking "Damnnnnn ... you so stubbly and manly and hella hella sexy". Could you believe it? I thought that about my 65 year old boss!!!!!!!!!!!! I swear I have never felt that way or even thought like that before. I was so ashamed of myself. I text ThePrince:
"Baby I need mental help. Pops (that's what I call my boss - although not to his face, it's what his granddaughter calls him and I think it's cute) is doing the mourning thing and he is all unshaved and his shirt is ripped and he's all stern looking and when I saw him I thought he looked hella sexy and I wanted to touch the stubble. Could you believe that? I am ashamed"

And he responded:
"You know you have daddy issues and you like them older. You love that stubbly manly look too. You are also a big freak. What you are experiencing is a subconscious cry for sex which I will gladly answer later"

Way to make me feel better baby!!!!!

New Hip and Cool Female Ex-Boss - I Think I Love Her

2007-10-09T10:43:00.000+01:00

This morning I opened my Inbox and there was a message from New, Hip and Cool Female Ex-Boss that sent my Homesickness Metre spiralling. I really miss her.

At the end of the day, she wanted what was best for me. And she pushed me because she knew what I was capable of. And I would not have achieved the things I have without her and most importantly, I would not be in London if it wasn't for her.

I think she has inspired me more than I wish to admit, but I am grateful

She will never change. And that is a good thing. Her e-mail was really sunny and upbeat just like she is - it took me right back to when I first met her and she was everything that I wanted to be (Now I want to be a combination of her and my current boss - young and driven and successful and all that - but married)

I'll give you the opening lines of the e-mail:
"Guess what I am watching ... The Bachelor (I love that show and she knows it) and could not help thinking of you. It will be the last time. This show sucks sea salt. This lady is crying because she is being sent home and she says 'I thought we had a really special connection, because he did see the very special parts of me, because I wear those parts on the outside, he can really see my special parts, the other girls aren't real, they hide their special parts'. EWWWWWW"

I collapsed in laughter. Yeah I miss her ...

Homesickness Code Dark Orange

Three Obediences, Four Virtues

2007-10-08T07:16:00.000+01:00

This weekend when I wasn't obsessing over bank references and the amount of work I have to do before my bosses return on Wed (Note - not actually doing the work, just obsessing about it) I was reading a book called Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. I was engrossed but in a really weird disgusted way. The book, especially the early chapters is very graphic about the art of Chinese foot binding.

Basically a girl whose family was middle to upper class and whose family aspired to a good marriage for her would have to have her feet bound at the age of six or seven. This was done to ensure that the feet did not get too large (7 cm was the perfect size) and looked like golden lilies - apparently a turn on for the huzzies. Basically the feet would be wrapped really tightly so that the toes would be bent back and under the foot and then the girl would have to walk on them until the does broke and the foot reset to the optimal size. One in ten girls actually died from the procedure. But it was necessary if you wanted to marry well. Girls whose families were too poor to have it done were destined to a life as servants. Where girls had it done and the end result was not optimal (ranging from a foot over 7 cm to being deformed and not being able to work properly) the marriage prospects would decrease based on the damage done. But if everything was perfect with the feet - even if you weren't so rich (or so pretty) - the matchmaker would be able to secure a good marriage on your behalf.

Anyway, while they were describing it. I could actually feel the agony in my own feet. I felt sick to my stomach. The things women have to go through just awe and appall me sometimes. 7 cm is not a proper foot length!!!!!!! Why men thought this was sexy is beyond me. I know it was explained in the book that with these "golden lilies" the women would walk in this special way (I could well imagine since all their weight was borne on their big toes). But I just don't get how deformed looking feet with the toes bent under could be hot.

The book did teach me some other important things however that I want to share with you all - meditate and ponder these throughout your day ...

The first is the Three Obediences:

When a girl, obey your father
When a wife, obey your husband
When a widow, obey your son

The second is the Four Virtues:

Be chaste and yielding, calm and upright in attitude
Be quiet and agreeable in words
Be restrained and exquisite in movement
Be perfect in handiwork and embroidery

The book goes further to say "If girls do not stray from these principles, they will grow into virtuous women"

Uh huh...yeah. I clearly have a lot of work to do to get virtuous because I seemed to have missed this memo.

Limbo

2007-10-03T07:33:00.000+01:00

If you know anything about me, you know that I am highly organised. I'm a researcher and a list maker. I think I learned it from my Mama. I remember when we had to get a new car. She had lists of research on all the possible cars in her price range, what were the deals and the prices and what she could possibly get from each company in easy-compare tables. I watched and I thought I want to be just like her -

"Damn... My mama's FABULOUS"

By Sunday night I had lists:

A list of The Prince and my agreed upon suitable locations both Preferred (Highgate, Archway, Holloway, Camden) and Second-Tier (Bounds Green, Finchley, Kentish, Finsbury Park)
A list of the different types of properties and living arrangements available (house shares, bedsits, studios, flats)
A list of the average prices (by location) for each different type of living arrangement
A list of our requirements (We didn't want to share anything with anyone - our own bathroom, kitchen, laundry and entrance was essential. We weren't sure then if we wanted a separate living room or if it could be all in one but we were clear that no sharing was to take place. We wanted to have enough space so that family and friends would be comfortable staying with us when they came over)
A list of Estate Agents
A list of properties I had seen advertised that I wanted to view

I also had a budget. The Prince is an Accountant - money is his business so on Sunday he decided that we were going to have a "meeting" to discuss Finances (the man is adorable, what can I say). He was so prepared. He took out his laptop where he had created a document with our joint incomes and expenditures (both joint and individual). There were "red" areas to look at (basically our "Entertainment" bill and my savings) and we discussed those and agreed on amounts to be spent and saved and then determined what was our range for rent no more than £800/month inclusive. We also discussed how our Finances will be structured going forward - apparently we are going to have a joint account and pay for joint things from it. He also wants me to keep the receipts for things that I purchase from the joint account so he can do a monthly bank reconciliation (Too freaking cute!) I was biting the inside of my lips not to laugh - he was taking the entire thing so very seriously.

Anyway I spent most of Monday morning on the phone arranging viewings and talking to Estate Agents. Because I was a "apartment hunting virgin" I wanted to see a sample of what a large studio and a small studio was and 1 bedroomed flat (we had narrowed our options to those) and get an idea of what the process entailed. Here's what I learnt:

Do not go flat hunting in high-heeled boots
Anything advertised for more than 2 days on Loot and Gumtree has already been taken by someone else. If it's still available, it's most likely shite
We picked really expensive areas as my preferred locations (Avg rent for a 1-bed flat in Archway/Highgate £220/week - no bills) for the high price of living in London look here
A large studio is a small studio
A small studio is a cupboard
Studios don't typically have - an oven, private laundry facilities, adequate storage facilities, a stove larger than 2 burners
Properties always sound nice on Loot and Gumtree, the reality can be a lot different from the expected
If the ad doesn't say bills are included they are definitely NOT included
If you can bypass an Agency it's good because you avoid paying their fees (£100-£200)
At least ten other people are interested in the property you want so you need to make sure you are in the first batch of people to see a property you want
The ten other people viewing the property are not your friends. If they want the property and you want it too they will slit you from gullet to gills. They will however speak to you and tell you their trials and experiences if the property is grotty and neither party wants it. You should pay attention to their diatribes as they are actually very educational and helpful
After you view a property, if you want it you have to be ready to say on the spot and put your money where your mouth is by paying the deposit.

Of all the properties I saw on Monday there was one I really liked, it was a 1-bed flat in Archway looking on to a lovely garden £180/week no bills and even though The Prince would have cursed me I wanted it. I saw myself in it. There were 2 other couples viewing the flat as well, one that arrived before me and one that arrived after. I went outside to call The Prince and get the ok. By the time I came back inside the flat had already been let and couple number 2 was taking out bank and work references, payslips, copies of their passport etc. I was just there standing with my mouth open like a bobolee

But you live and you learn and my learning curve is very steep. I spent Monday night admittedly a bit depressed with The Prince trawling the net for lettings. We made a list of calls to make the next morning and then - we prayed (I think HisHighness was feeling the cloud over my head)

Yesterday morning I was online from 6:30a.m. looking at all the newly posted properties for let. At about 7:15a.m. a property was put up on Loot through an Agency - a one bedroomed flat in Muswell Hill (the Utopia where I now live and was loathe to leave because it is picturesque and perfect) and not only in Muswell Hill - 5 mins walk from where I live now, but better because it's closer to buses and transport and The Broadway (shopping centre). I called the number. It was an Agency (boo). They didn't open until 9:00a.m. At 9:01a.m. I was on the phone and through to an Agent arranging a viewing. I scheduled my viewing for 4:00p.m. but I told the Agency that if anybody tried to view it before then they should call me back immediately and I would reschedule and push my viewing up.

My co-worker got into the spirit of things with me. We left the office at 3:40p.m. diverted the phone to a mobile and pelted down the road together. Me taking the calls and navigating while she drove. We were there at 4:00p.m. on the dot. I did my walk through and although it wasn't as immediately lovely as the one in Archway that was let before my very eyes, it did seem like somewhere that I could make a home. The rooms were a good size, it's not poky at all, nice big living room (where people who come to visit me can sleep on my sofabed), nice kitchen, fair bath (small tub) and laundry facilities on site. It's a first floor flat (no one will be walking over my head) and the best part - - - £191/week ALL BILLS INCLUDED (Council Tax, Gas & Electric, Water, TV Licence)

SCORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I asked to take it on the spot and went to their offices and paid the holding deposit to stop other interested parties from viewing it (even the ones booked in for half an hour later) and remove the listing. Even the cynics among you must admit that the flat was destined for me. I mean come on - I pray, I wake up in the morning and the perfect flat appears that I get to see before everybody else ...That, my darlings is nothing but the hand of God.

So we're not homeless, well not completely anyway as nothing is final - we are still in limbo. By this I mean that the Agency is doing our bank checks and work references which have to be completed for them to make the decision on whether or not we are suitable tenants (if we can afford it). Hopefully that all goes well. I will keep you updated.

Things I Hate - Funerals, Work Permits, Moving

2007-10-01T08:20:00.000+01:00

So it's been a week. And so many things have happened in that week. It's been maniacally busy. My bosses went on vacation to Israel and while they were away male boss' mother died. They've flown the body off to Israel and the funeral is today but because they are Jewish they have to do something called sitting shiva. And because right now they're in the middle of sukkot, they can't start sitting shiva, they have to wait until sukkot is over I'm going to be the boss for quite a while longer than planned. I don't mind at all though, my bosses are so good to me it's nice to be able to do something for them for a change. I know my boss must be gutted because he really loved his mom.

I am finished with all the documentation for my work permit application but I can't send it off until Friday which is the end of the stipulated 4-week Recruitment period. If more CVs come in then we may have to have more interviews of potential candidates and add to the documents provided but as far as I am concerned that is doubtful - if they haven't responded and sent in their CVs by now chances are that they aren't going to. Fingers crossed and lots of prayers, all will go well. I attacked it like a school project on Thursday and Friday last though (Jewish holidays). It's really neat and all the documents are labelled and in folders with printed separators between them. They can't not be impressed by the effort that went in to the preparation and at least I know in myself that there is nothing else that I could have done and I gave the maximum effort.

This week I am also going to be super-busy because The Prince and I are moving. That's right! We have bitten the bullet and decided to set up a nest of our own together without all the extraneous people. I am nervous-excited. I have never had to apartment hunt before, strangely enough, looking back - it's always my Mama Bear who gives me the hook-up. My first apartment for University was all her, my second apartment after University was also her - she heard in her staff room that a girl's sister was moving out of a place in Maraval and I got the apartment after her and where I live now was also her as she knew my current housemates' mother and they were talking and just set things up. But now I have no Mama Bear to help me I have to do this on my own.

And everything happens so fast in London. When you see a property you have to be willing, if you want it to put an offer in on the spot because twenty other people most likely want it too. And I'm so picky. I'm wondering how I'll cope. I have two viewings today. I'm really nervous. So I'll write back later to tell how everything went.

What's New?

2007-09-25T07:41:00.000+01:00

The answer to that question is "Absolutely Nothing"

I had a very quiet weekend. Slept in on Sat and then went out to dinner with The Prince at a "Caribbean" restaurant where the callaloo looked like chipped up patchoi - it was even on a plate, not in a bowl so you can understand how disappointing the meal was. And then on Sunday we had a small lunch at our house to celebrate the return of a good friend of ours, formerly of "the fiery pits of hell" where I used to work. He got through with his work permit and everything so he's with us once more and we are just thrilled for him.

My bosses have gone on vacation again. This time for two and a half weeks so I am again the Queen B, the head honcho, Ms. In Charge. I'm not really thrilled about it though because I am struggling with my work permit application and need a day or two to put together the paperwork. Unlike my aforementioned friend, we have decided not to hire a solicitor or consultancy to deal with the work permit application but to do it ourselves. Basically because hiring a solicitor costs £1200 and the actual application costs £190 and my boss thinks it's a waste of money because we can read the Guidance Notes and do it ourselves.

Yesterday at the 99th hour before the bosses departed we were all running down the documents that are "mandatory" for Borders and Immigration and because my boss split our company into two earlier in the year and then new company is the one that hires me that hardly has any documentation I feel a little bit screwed, like Home Office is going to look at the documents and be confused about what the hell is going on and why there are two companies and think that the split (which was made for administrative purposes to separate the Temporary and Permanent sides of the business) is some type of skulduggery and deny me the work permit on that basis. Because we are a small "not known" company like BP or Shell or Deloitte there is all this additional documentation that is required on the company side. It's not just about getting my details together it's getting what I need from my bosses and colleagues as well and every time I ask for something I hear "What do they need that for?"

Because the entire procedure is my responsibility I am very nervous. I feel that if I don't get through, it will be my fault for not being thorough enough. There will be no one to blame. And my friends who have gone through this before say "Don't worry if you get refused the first time, they will send you a list of what was needed and you reapply and all will be well" but I know myself and I know that I will be crushed if I don't get through and I know I am running out of time. And I am not ready to start back living at home just yet.

Thursday and Friday are more Jewish holidays so I should have time then to work on it and get everything together and organised to a level where no one could have any query after seeing the documents that we are a legitimate company and that I am the best person for the job.

Until that point though, I will continue to obsess about it, have nervous stomach, be barely able to sleep and exist in panic mode.

At least I can be grateful that I have recovered from the cold virus thanks to LaLa (no, not the yellow teletubby) and her grape juice remedy. Now I can be well, tired and worried - instead of sick, tired and worried and that in itself is a blessing.

The Best Laid Plans...

2007-09-20T09:17:00.000+01:00

I am transmitting today from my bed in my room in my house. Yep, that's right - the power of positive thinking did not really work for me and I have succumbed finally to the virus.

I went to work yesterday and tried to make it through the day but I knew the game was up when one of our perviest clients called and said "You should get sick more often. Your voice sounds really sexy and throaty. I love it" and then he called back after I put down the phone to ask me to repeat what I had said because he wasn't really listening.

But even before my positive thinking plan failed, another facet of my plan, my second day of Vicks-sexy failed. On Tuesday I came home a bit before him and I thought I had enough time to close my eyes for a few minutes before going to get sexified. Hours later he came home and found me sprawled on the bed in my work clothes, with my hair messed up and all over the place, snoring (and making a strange gurgling noise from his recount) and roasting with fever. The anti-sexy.

He sprung into action and became the perfect Night Nurse complete with sponge baths, pills, Vicks, clean PJs, fuzzy socks and menthol and eucalyptus oils. He even tried to sing the song my mother sings to my sister and I when we are sick. ***The song is sung to the tune of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and goes like "Norma James' baby has a cold upon her chest. Norma James' baby has a cold upon her chest. Norma James' baby has a cold upon her chest and she rubs it with Vicks Vapor Rub". Don't ask! It's really cute though and she's been singing it my whole life and I sing it for The Prince when he's sick"*** He completely massacred the song though but it was still really cute.

He did use my illness to make me listen though. I was too weak to go anywhere and was perfectly coherent while he was telling me how sorry he was and that he loved me and how sad he was not to be able to sleep next to me for the past few nights and how worried he was when I didn't come home on Sunday and how he was going to take care of me and make me better etc. The next morning I woke up feeling a lot better (which is why I went to work) and he was next to me in bed cuddling me and I didn't feel to smash his head in.

I'm not feeling 100% forgiving but for the moment the war is over. I'm too sick to strategise anyway...

Vicks-Sexy

2007-09-18T11:54:00.000+01:00

After lunch yesterday I started feeling a congested feeling overcoming me and a tickle in my throat. Ominous, awful signs that I was about to be overcome by an evil cold virus. I set off for Tesco’s as soon as work was finished to get all drugged up. My inner druggie possessed my body as I bought everything in the Cold and Flu aisle that I thought could help me.

I refuse to accept that I am sick. I think that if I think positive thoughts, ignore it and stifle it with drugs it will just go away. I refuse to acknowledge it. I cannot be sick. I just can’t.

The period after a fight with the bf is most critical. YOU CANNOT LOOK MESSED UP. You have to look perfect, glowing, not down in the dumps like you’re depressed and at your wits’ end – you’re not bothered, you’ll be fine without him, YOU’RE FABULOUS. Mind you this is very difficult to perpetuate when you live with someone and they could potentially see you in the night snoring and drooling with your most open looking most un-. But still, one must persevere and THERE IS JUST NO ROOM FOR ILLNESS.

My stuffy nose and itchy throat put an end to my plans to stay out until 10:00p.m. After my drug-buying expedition I had to rush home and get what I like to call “Vicks-Sexy” which is taking all the steps to ensure that the cold doesn’t get a greater stronghold but looking sexy doing it. I showered, put on “invisible” makeup, tied up my hair, took my drugs, laid them out artistically on the bedside table next to me, rubbed myself down with Vicks, put on cute PJs and fuzzy socks and then draped myself on the bed all sexy but waif-like.

So he comes home ready for war but is disarmed and beguiled by my vulnerability and innocent beauty. (Actually he came home with a complete game plan himself. He was in a suit, went and got a shave and a haircut – he looked gorgeous - and probably thought my “weakened” state would make me more receptive to what he had to say). He tried to take care of me. I allowed him to touch me only to apply Vicks to my chest. We had a “talk” – no resolutions came of it because I am still very annoyed, aggravated and upset and he is still a pigheaded perpetuator of bullsh*t so he still ended up sleeping on the floor.

This morning I had to wake up fifteen minutes earlier because I felt a bit crappy (but it’s not getting the better of me I swear) and still needed to look super sexy. He wakes up about 5 mins before I leave so I needed to look fabulous to waltz silently through the door to work. And I have to tell you those 15 extra mins were worth it because just as planned when I was leaving he woke up and said “How are you feeling baby?” and I said “Fine” and then he said “You look so beautiful this morning” and looked at me with his sleepy puppy dog eyes and I had to go right away before I melted and did something stupid like touch his hair or kiss his cheek or whatever.

Day 2

Mission Accomplished

Me, Myself and I

2007-09-17T09:57:00.000+01:00

On Saturday evening I had a major row with The Prince at the Thames Village Festival (which by the way was FABULOUS). I woke up on Sunday, looked at him sleeping on the floor and wanted to walk over his face so I knew I had to spend the day as far away from him as possible.

There was only one place I wanted to go. My one comfort and tranquil Zen place (other than my house) in London. A place where I am always welcome; where the owner says “Tea and Sympathy? Well, we can surely do a lot better than just tea”; where the collection of Sizzla rivals my own; where I am sure to wind up smiling and possibly dancing and where the couch-thing is so comfortable it lulls you straight to sleep. Alas however, I promised myself that I would stop being unfair and selfish, running to this person every time something bad happens between The Prince and I. So I endeavoured to fill the hours in the best company ever – my own.

I left home at about 11:30a.m. and got to Costa Coffee at noon. I ordered a passion fruit and mango frescato and a slice of double layer chocolate cake ensconced myself on a large stuffed chair and lost myself in a book until 3:00p.m. stopping only to talk to my Mama Bear. I didn’t feel at all lonely as so many other people were also there by themselves. Then I went to Wood Green to have lunch at Nandos. I was really worried about whether people would think I was a loser eating alone but then right after me another lady came in and requested a table for one so I just smiled. Then I went to Odeon in my village to watch Atonement. It depressed me so I went to Odeon Camden Town to watch Knocked Up to cheer up. It worked. Then I left the building and I had a million calls and texts about whether or not I was coming home and where I was and how worried he was etc. I ignored them all, got home at 11:30p.m. said maybe two sentences to him and went to bed.

Mission accomplished.

And you know what, I had a great day. London is the kind of city where it’s okay to be by yourself. I intend on spending many more days just like that.

I am forced to admit some truths however. I really only have one friend in London who I can run to when things go ass over tit and I only have one friend in the entire world I feel comfortable telling the whole truth to without reservation - who will just listen, who will not judge me, who will understand, who will lend a shoulder, who will not get more upset than me about the situation, who will make me smile. Sadly they are both the same person and even sadder than that, in order to have a proper friendship some amount of pretence must be utilised.

Anyway, we press on. I am thinking of something to do so I don’t have to go home before 10:00p.m. tonight. I welcome all suggestions.

And my Code for today is Black. I know that’s not on the chat but I have to add it. Basically black means I'm grouchy as hell, London sucks but Trinidad sucks worse so I might as well stay put.

Later.

In a Nutshell - A BIG Nutshell, but a Nutshell All The Same

2007-09-14T08:49:00.000+01:00

One of the perks of working for Jewish people is the Jewish holidays. I still have to work, but I get to do it from the comfort of my home and bed in my PJs. It's Rosh Hashanah the Jewish New Year ("Shana Tova" to all the Jewish people) and I was home yesterday as well as today, but yesterday I couldn't bring myself to do an update. You will see why below. What I am going to do below is just give little random updates of what's been going on for the week. Because I skipped so many days this week it's going to be a looooong one:

***

Yesterday I was on the bus heading to Central London where I was meeting some candidates for interview in Costa Coffee when I saw the most romantic thing I have seen in a long time. There was a couple waiting at one of the stops - he was average but she was gorgeous, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. When they saw the bus coming they started kissing feverishly until the bus stopped in front of them. She made moves to get on but he kept holding on to her hand and pulled her back for that one last kiss. Other people were passing them by. She was the last to get on and their fingers were still touching. She eventually made her way on glided to a window and splayed her hands on the glass with the most forlorn look on her face. She stayed that way, touching the glass and staring at this guy who also looked two seconds away from tears until the bus pulled off, at which point she pulled down her shades and started to cry. I thought it was beautiful. I told The Prince all about it and after we did a passionate reenactment (Yes I know, we're very corny) we tried to make up their story and figure out what that scene was all about - the end of the affair, a first meeting after conversing solely on the Internet, one of them moving to another country...Then we finally decided that they were actors rehearsing for a new role.

***

I can no longer shop at my local Sainsburys. Well not as regularly as I used to. On Saturday I went to return some DVDs to Blockbuster next door and popped into the grocery briefly. I didn't take a basket or anything because I was just going for 2 or 3 things. I was standing and contemplating bread when this security guard came up to me with a basket in hand and asked if I needed any help. I smiled at him and said "Do I look lost?" and he said "A little" and I said "There's so much bread, I can't decide which to choose". He looked at me and said "That's so cute" and I said "What?" and he said "Everything that you just said and the way you said it". Then I found out that his name is George, he's from Africa originally but he grew up in Germany and he's been in London for 6 months. I smiled, cashed out and left for Blockbuster. I finished there and was waiting for the bus back. The grocery was closed. He locked up and then came toward me and asked me if I needed a lift home. I told him I didn't accept lifts from strangers. He told me in that case he would wait with me until the bus came. The bus took 20 minutes. He waited and talked to me the entire time. I found myself smiling and then laughing and then chatting along merrily. Then we saw the bus coming and he gave me his number. I told him that I had a boyfriend and he told me I could change my mind. I haven't gone back to the grocery since. I've been chickening out and going to Tesco's instead.

***

I've started back Online Tutoring for UWI. Nothing exciting has happened yet. It's the introduction week. But already I am excited. Even though I've done it before I feel the exact same way I did last time. It is an incredibly fulfilling role, although frustrating when the students don't give what is expected. I look forward to the adventures it will bring.

***

On Wednesday while I was in the bathroom with the window open something went into my right eye. It was the most excruciating pain EVER. Every time I blinked it felt like something was stabbing me in my eye. I called the Optical Express hotline and they told me to use my drops. Well I used on my way to work and then at work and it did not ease the pain or dislodge whatever it was and my eye was red and swollen. Nobody (The Prince, my co-workers etc) could see anything and as it was not yet 2 weeks since my surgery I could not rub my eyes or touch them. I think that frustration exacerbated the excruciating-ness of the situation. It was like having an itch and not being able to scratch it. I had to pelt down to Central London to get it sorted. They numbed my eye and could see nothing then I explained to them that I felt it every time I blinked. They flipped up my eyelid and took out the tiniest black speck - almost invisible. I could not believe that tiny thing caused all that drama. Anyway I'm fine now and 2 weeks have passed so it's business like normal from now on.

***

My fabulous boss (female) turns 60 on Sunday. She has been miserable all week. No one has been able to mention anything about her birthday or getting older or anything. My normally composed and collected boss is completely freaked out. She doesn't look 60 at all though. She is one well-preserved lady. She takes very good care of herself. I'd love to look like that when I turn 60!!!!!! All week we've been hiding birthday cards that come in the post and presents from her friends who have been dropping them off in a cupboard (which when I left on Wed was already quite full) in an attempt to stave off the depression and full breakdown we know is coming. I added my present to the bunch and in my card wished her a Happy Birthday but I didn't want to get too sappy with her so I can say here that she is just want to wish her a Happy Birthday and let her know that she, as one of the classiest women I know is an excellent role model. She has taught me the importance of aesthetics and she inspires me to look my best at all times and impressed on me the need to find a good husband and the characteristics I should look for in him and by her own example inspires me to be a good wife and mother some day. I am proud of the way she works with her husband and how she perfectly balances running a successful business and family life. I aspire to her lifestyle and wish her long life and success. She doesn't need to freak out - being 60 could only make her more fabulous.

***

I am still working on my Work Permit application. Only two people responded to the job we put on gumtree. My boss thinks this is great but I think we really need to show Immigration that 10 people applied, 3 were shortlisted and I was the best. I want to not even leave room for a smidgen of doubt in their minds and I don't want to be refused. I have decided to post the ad with Jobcentre as well. Now I've gone from being afraid someone better than me will come along to being afraid that noone will respond at all and Immigration will decline me saying that we did not advertise enough, did not choose a good medium or had an ad that was too specific. We did interview one of the candidates who sent a CV in this week and she was fine, I really liked her, but she doesn't have the kind of experience that I do. So I plod on. I want to submit by the end of September though and we are halfway there and I don't feel that things are progressing as quickly or as well as I would like them to, but I will keep the updates coming. Pray for me. I'm feeling very Code Vanilla and I don't want to go home

***

And finally, the reason why I did not feel like updating yesterday. The shock had worn off and I started to feel grief for a colleague from the fiery pits of hell who died in childbirth on Wed. I think that the death of my father has made me extremely sensitive to death. I feel it more than other people. It really affects me. It is not something that I cope with well. And when the person who died is young (like my father was) it affects me even more. The colleague in question was vibrant and full of energy. She went into a male dominated Department, fit in and found her niche and transformed it over time, introducing a new system, getting things organised and changing the way that they worked and she was great at her job. A bit loud, but with an underlying sweetness. She was good fun and very helpful. She will definitely be missed. I remember she was doing a Management Course with The Prince and she was so excited, so enthusiastic and wanting to put in place all that she had learned. That was the kind of person she was and how she will be remembered by me.

This case I feel deeply because she had another child who I think may be about 6 or 7, the same age I was when my father died. I cried for that child. Her life will always be different. She will always be different and not just from the other children, on the inside as well. I wonder who told her. I wonder if she understands. I wonder if she will know enough to cry. I wonder if she will for years keep looking out for her mother to come back, half expecting her to come back. I want to give her a hug. And I think about my mother and how happy I am to have her, how much I love her, how lucky I was to have her as my mother, everything she did to give me the best possible life and how scared I am that anything will happen to her. I think that is my biggest fear, losing my mother. I am just sad for that little child who will not have what I had and for the baby who survived and will have had nothing from her mother at all.

May the loving arms of The Father surround all those who are in mourning for her. Eternal Rest grant unto her and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen

Monday Blues

2007-09-10T10:37:00.000+01:00

I love my job. It's the best part of being here in London. And I say that without reservation because when people ask me how I am regardless of what else is happening (The Prince being a mook, my landlords being mooks etc.) my job is always constant. It is always fine or better than fine. So although it's not what I want to do in the long-term, for right now, there is no where else I would rather work. I love that I am largely unsupervised and no one really questions anything that I do. I have autonomy and decision making power and my opinion really matters. And I get paid the most I have ever been paid for the least amount of work-related stress I have ever undergone.

That having been said on a Monday morning I struggle to get up and go to work. Especially when it's cold. I always make it in - and on time too, but I have to force myself. Of course when I get here I'm over it and I can bounce in the door smiling and saying "Good Morning!" like my boss loves and I'm happy to see them and to be here (Yes, I am still a total nerd and I feel my temporary "Cool Club" pass will be revoked) but it's the getting in that kills me.

It's probably because my weekends are so yummy. I sleep in, I laze around, I read, I shop, and then there is always some fabulous dinner and drinks on Saturday after we go wherever we go. Then on Sunday there's more lazing around and Church and cooking the fabulous Sunday Lunch (old Trini habits die hard). Household chores get done somewhere in between there but then before I blink twice Sunday is over and Monday looms and I start suffering from the Monday blues.

Ok - so my code today is Yellow. This weekend I had a chance to caught caught up with some of my friends (MostGorgeousFriend, SpiritualGuideandConscience, Scotty, PoshBankGirl, MSSIF) and my Mama Bear and sister bear but it didn't make me cry. They all really cheered me up and made me smile and I had a kind of epiphany with MostGorgeousFriend.

She told me that sometimes she doesn't read my blog because it upsets her that I am all happy and doing other things and have moved on in my life without her. And I feel the exact same way. Sometimes I don't want to talk to my friends online or on the phone (and I also had to delete Facebook) because it made me feel excluded from their lives - that things are happening that I am not a part of and that they don't feel my absence any more. And I know it's been over a year but that sh*t still hurts.

So I want to say to all my friends and to the SisterBear and MamaBear that regardless of how swimmingly things are going I always feel that something is missing because you all are not here. And I think about you all every day. And it makes me good to know that you feel the same way or even that you still consider me to be a bridesmaid in your fake wedding (PrettyRedFriend I was very touched).

And that's some Monday morning mush for you. Actually now I feel all teary so I may have to upgrade to a Code Dark Orange. More later...

I Deactivated My Facebook Account

2007-09-04T11:54:00.000+01:00

THE HOMESICK METRE is in the post below and my laser eye experience below that but I just wanted to put in writing that:

I have deactivated my Facebook A/c

I have deactivated my Facebook A/c
I have deactivated my Facebook A/c

I am returning to the purity of spirit and existence I had where I hated all those sites and refused to join any of them

Also - everyone who is still on Facebook SUCKS.

That's all

Introducing drumroll please - The Homesick Metre

2007-09-04T11:19:00.001+01:00

Ladies and Gentlemen I introduce to you today *drum roll please*

THE HOMESICK METRE

I had a call from a friend while I was convalescing and the conversation drifted to how homesick I was in general, how that had changed over time and how much it fluctuated from day to day. She noted that these fluctuations are not at all reflected on the blog so she would read the blog and call me thinking all was Code Vanilla only to find a Code Red situation on her hands (see below for Codes and Descriptions).

So this is for her and it's also for me because it will be good to look back on how I felt about the experience over time and seeing whether I have more vanilla than red days will let me know whether or not this could be a permanent move.

Today's Code - Yellow

THE HOMESICK METRE

Level 5 – CODE RED

I am on the verge of a mental breakdown, at my wits end and want to pack a suitcase and jump on a plane to return home IMMEDIATELY because Trinidad is PERFECT

My iPod is FILLED with Christmas music and Sizzla and I keep pressing “Repeat”

Level 4 – CODE DARK ORANGE

The merest mention of home or anything Trinidadian will cause me to burst into copious and unexplained tears

My iPod is half-filled with Christmas music and Sizzla

Level 3 – CODE LIGHT ORANGE

My iPod is quarter-filled with Christmas music and Sizzla

Level 2 – CODE YELLOW

I think of home fondly and miss my friends and family but know that I am better of where I am for the moment and that short visits home are best.

My iPod is the perfect blend of past and present urban hits

Level 1- CODE VANILLA