The London Hamster Sprint

The unthinkable has happened.

I have found myself running for buses and trains. I have found myself cursing the fat woman or the slow moving tantie in front of me, strolling through the underground corridors as if she has no f...g place to go, as I am trying to pelt my ass and my bookbag to the next available train for fear of missing my overground train and having to wait another 25-30 minutes, thus risking being late for class or just being late for home. I am one of those tight-arsed, tight-lipped Brits, peeps. My God.

I was actually strolling to my train this evening as I was just frickin' tired and then somehow got caught up in the hamster sprint with a train sitting at the stop and quite forgetting myself, I jumped on it, getting pushed and squeezed in the process. It was only after the doors had closed that I cursed to myself - this ain't even my so and so train. lol. Had to jump off at the next stop, take the train back to my original stop and guess what? Wait half hour for the next one. lol. I can laugh now but I was not laughing then.

And another thing - it really knots my socks when you're sitting on the train, trying to de-frazzle, with your schoolbooks etc on the seat next to you and some pervy asshole asks to sit next to you when there are empty seats ALL AROUND...in any of the EIGHT coaches. But no...I must move my bag and my books and inconvenience myself so you can breathe my air. Take it from me, you're not going to win any brownie points by doing that. I will move my bag if the train is filling up, but gimme a lil chance nah. Gosh man.

I am finally home and showered and lotioned up. If anyone wants to make my prayer list for the next year, you would buy me this..SERIOUSLY.


Nothing else works. I use Palmer's Cocoa Butter...not the real butter but the watery shit in the bottle. I use Buffy. I use Keri. But only Lay It on Thick keeps my skin from becoming like an alligator's. And from itching in this dry, cold air. Oh please please...someone. Get to your nearest Bath and Body Works and send me a tube. I am on perhaps my last squeeze. lol.

Other than that, I have work, group assignments (postgrad group assignments are as annoying as undergrad group assignments and maybe worse cause patience in my case, decreases with age) and during the week, no life. I feel like I am home, at work - the only difference being, I get paid to work and have no life. lol. I am the one paying others to offer me inconvenience on a silver platter. It is hilarious. But no...it's a lot of work, and the end seems miles and miles away because there are a million chapters to read before next week, but I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Somewhere. Maybe it's the train I am running for. Maybe. Anyway, I live for the weekend. Trying to plan drinks after Eff Dem Friday - classes til 5pm. And anything involving a laugh and maybe a cute boy.

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I Heart Amazon Retail Therapy

So don't think I am just idly hawking Amazon products on my blog. I actually love Amazon though not in a great position to buy anything for myself at the moment. But I think recognising my need for an adrenaline rush, a welcome break from the marketing texts, some retail therapy, my cousin offered up a miracle.

His credit card.

And not just to hold, but to make actual purchases. And while only two of them impact me directly and were minor activities - my student photocard and my UK RumFest ticket, I felt the surge of trininista retail juices surging through my veins when I added these to my empty virtual basket.

















I can only pray that one day soon, I can ring up something cute for myself. Til then, I await "my" delivery in the next 3-5 days.

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Cuppa Coffee, Anyone?

It's been a really long time since I have had to do anything other than watch tv and sleep on a Sunday. I sat down with the best intentions of reading this global marketing text and after the second page I was nodding off. I am probably too old for this school thing or the text books are probably more and more tedious. Also the worst thing one can possibly do is look at just how much you need to read in total. It is a sure way to go crazy. I decided to take a break, make a cup of coffee and waste time online until I felt re-energised.

Ummm...yeah.

The coffee worked a bit, but I really miss my oversized coffee mug and my next purchase outside of fluffier socks and thermal underwear will probably be a cute coffee/soup mug for winter days and nights. I really am in love with the Blue Celtic Ceramic Mug below. It's so me. Feel free to buy it for me as an early birthday/Christmas present.

















I also miss having a warm body in my bed. Out of the gutter, kids. I meant a dog. The neighbour's dog has been barking up a storm since yesterday and is currently out in the backyard looking as cute as a button. I love how his mum calls him in for breakfast every day. Precious. I also ran into him yesterday during his walk and he is so affable and loving and cute. I really miss having a dog and though it definitely will not happen here, with my dog-hating cousin in the house, I want to have a dog again soon. Until then...the warmest thing around here is my laptop, which I should get off if I am to finish reading these 6 chapters.

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Booting Up

It's starting to get a bit nippy in good ole Blighty. My girlfriend and I, during our girlie adventures today, ventured onto Oxford Street as she tried to find a pair of cute boots for the impending winter months. I am a bit worried myself about the winter because though I love shoes, I also hate them at the same time. I am most comfortable in a pair of flip flops or open toed shoes, and in my regular life, I own 2 pairs of closed toe shoes. Now being here, my feet feel imprisoned all the time. I actually walk with a pair of FFs in my bag for some release between train stops because my feet really love being free. Dreadful I tell you. But I do love seeing a nice leg in a nice boot. My classmate has won me over with her assortment of wellies, Uggs and other such bootie fashion. I am officially jealous.














I also miss having a salary to buy such cute accessories like boots and pom pom hats. Sigh.

But I really had a lovely day out today. The hilarious thing about English weather is even with the sun shining, blue skies and fluffy clouds, you still would not dare walk out the door without a scarf, and a coat. It was cold no tail today. The eye candy display was better today than in recent days, and as we snarfed down some Mexican food at Wahaca, I spotted some really fantastic specimens of 2-legged cuteness. I came home to a barbecue - the last for a while - and good friends and a boy, who is enjoying my unique brand of silent treatment. I just don't have the energy right now. I also talked to my dad, and I think I am now satisfied enough and well prepped to spend the rest of the weekend with the books.

And for those who were so amused by yesterday's entry, I think he realised that his attempt at playing games with me backfired, so imagine my mix of disgust and amusement this morning to see a text from Mr Bright and Incredible asking if I was free this evening. What a sad person.

I have not taken a single photo of my new surroundings since I have been here. I aim to do better this week. Gotta smell the roses right? Especially before they freeze and die.

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Date Night

As if I were not annoyed enough about having to spend my one free Friday on campus, and then leaving afer 7pm, a dude decided he would try to get snippy and I really was not feeling the attitude. So we had made tentative plans for tomorrow but because I was not sure whether I would need to have a team meeting on Saturday, I could not confirm a time with him immediately. I sent him a text telling him I would confirm this evening after our meeting. He texts me last night, clearly in some kinda rush and I told him again, I would let him know for sure on Friday evening. I mean, if you had something you wanted to plan, just let me know. I could have planned for another day, but he responded that this was cool. As I am leaving campus after working for hours,and deciding that my Saturday had to be mine and not school's, I text him back to tell him what time would work for me. This is the text this bright man sent me:

Hey sorry thought it was evening now so have made plans.

I mean, wow. I was being schooled in when was evening. Can I just say I came here for a Masters degree and not for a distinction in Debrett's etiquette lesson. WTF.

Add annoyance, extreme hunger and cold, and I was not at all impressed with this f..r. So if he thought he was being cheeky, well he clearly had no idea who the arse he was dealing with. Trust me, this not-so-stunning ass knows now. All I will say is, there will be no date tomorrow or ever, and he has not responded. lol.

Instead I seem to have a date with 2 Marketing texts and a PowerPoint presentation and at this present time with a glass of a very nice Shiraz. At least they don't talk back.

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Back to School

I am too tired to write much. I mean, it's like they tried to pack a lifetime of induction knowledge into 8 hours. It was just too much and not just for my old brain, but the young'uns were struggling too. I mean, who puts the librarian's session after lunch?? REALLY??? I was waging a serious battle with sleep at that point. I think she realised a half hour before the scheduled end that she, her presentation with the cute graphics and her examples were just not making sense at that point and she surrendered a full 25 mins ahead of time. We could read the pamphlets.

Yes peeps. Back to school. It was an okay kinda day, just too much for one sitting, man. The classmates are alright. Mostly Europeans, with 2 Nigerians, one Yank and one Trininista. No Brits. The Bajan and the last person aren't here yet. One dude is pretty annoying but I put on my best laugh and did not stare at him blankly, nor did I roll my eyes. Impressive. The two module leaders we have met so far are pretty cool and their classes should be interesting. And I am the ole timer in the group, I think, though I suspect one of the guys is hiding his age. lol. The timetable is a bit intimidating with one 3 hour class first thing on a Monday morning. I mean...who thought of that? And a 5 hour class on a Friday! Sadists. So, again, I have not a single regret about last weeks's vegging on the couch.

I also think I have literally lost about 8 pounds already. I had to keep pulling my jeans up all day which was highly annoying. All this pedestrian action is really taking its toll, and granted, weight loss is a great thing, but not when you cannot afford to buy new jeans cause the ones you have are apparently getting too big. lol. I have been eating really healthily as well, which does not help. I mean when a decent sized bag of pre-cut stir fry veggies cost a quid, you're gonna be eating pretty damn healthy. lol. I am supposed to have a "date" tomorrow but if I feel anything like I feel now, then that is going to be a disaster of royal proportions. I am really exhausted.

Headache of the century and a mother who wants me to stay up past midnight so she can Skype at 7pm her time. The things I do...

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Student Life in London

It's Sunday, so I can really sit back and take some time to catch up on cyber life. I did not have a US to UK adapter until last night so battery life on the laptop was seriously compromised. Add that to the fact that a ruthless Pakistani dude sold me a dud adapter which had me in all kinda vexation last night, forcing me to walk out the road in my pyjama bottoms to get another one so I could Skype with my mums. The scary thing about this whole scenario is that even in my silk pyjama bottoms, I was still more stylish than the natives and still managed to pick up a  man in Budgens.

I had a nice day yesterday though. Even in the face of serious penny pinching, where there is a mall, there is a trininista and when I called up my "uncle" who is also here with his daughter, who is also entering fab starving student life, and he told me they were at the mall, I made a detour (I was heading to Oxford Street) and let my Oyster card take me to Westfield Mall instead. Oh the temptation. The boots, the scarves, the gadgets, the trinkets. The empty wallet. The horror. I did pick up a few essentials from Boots and from Lush, which included

Buffy. My skin does not do well in this weather and has been ever so dry and itchy. Buffy to the rescue! I also managed to pick up - can you guess? A Nigerian. I should rename this blog, Trininista's Nigerian Adventures. I was standing in Next waiting for my uncle and this dude leaves his route to walk into the store, most likely gobsmacked by my effortless beauty (lol) to chat me up. Fortunately for him, he was young, hip and good looking so I did not give him the normal treatment, i.e. instant "begone". But still, it must be a skill they learn in school - Annoying 101 - cause he still had the aggressive come atcha hard behaviour of his not so good looking countrymen. So while he lasted longer than the average Nigerian admirer, he still got the dismissal with one turn of my head.

I was so excited to come home and take a Buffy shower, and then totally rub myself down with Palmer's Cocoa Butter Lotion with Shea Butter. Heavenly. I had the evening all planned - post-Buffy broccoli au gratin and chicken dinner, with some boy time, some mum time and a movie. It just did not turn out anything like this initially and ended up with a bit of a meltdown. And after such a brilliant day too. I am not sure. I think between the tiefin Pakistani causing me to miss my call with my mum, a bit of homesickness, added with the downtime I have not had in about 5 weeks where I had been juggling my day job and getting ready to come here, plus the fact that I well burn the chicken while chatting online with the HP support technician as I tried to figure out why my laptop was not charging (before I realised the Pakistani factor was the cause), which was horrifying and totally mind numbing for a student, and no boy time, AND PMS...the catalyst behind it all - in a matter of minutes, I went from Buffy smurf to Bitchy Bawling Smurf. lol. But it was needed. When I got the adapter after my pyjama bottoms outing, I got to talk to my mum, the baby and my sister in law, and I had 3 pieces of the burnt chicken with some juice, minus the broccoli and I camped out on the couch with Motrin 800 and Confessions of a Shopaholic and all was right with the world once more.

I am okay again. I head to school tomorrow and though I am not 100%, I have mentally picked out my First Day/Back to School outfit and aim to make a winning first impression, which as I told Soy will also include being on my best behaviour. This includes

- No rolling of eyes at Nigerians - a tough challenge,  but if they were not so aggressive I could hang with them
- No rolling of eyes in general
- No snide comments at dotish people
- No sucking of teeth at dotish people
- No cussing
- No sarcasm
- No general me-ness

They can get all that on Tuesday. With pleasure. Going for a coffee now with my soon to be married Italian. All the good ones...gone.

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Jobless, but not hapless in London

So I am back in London. But this time not as the divalicious tourist but as the fabulous unemployed student. I did some grocery shopping yesterday and it reminded me that during my student days, macaroni and cheese, and crackers and green tea will be my best friends. Got two boxes of green tea. I'm ready. The good thing is I will lose some weight for sure and maybe get back my undergrad body. lol. Miracles do happen!

To answer Bingi's question about BA, we need to go back to last week where I was trying ardently to get the lowly 20% discount on my second bag by paying for it online. However, try as I might, the site would not let me. I called and tweeted and was told I would have the option during online check in, so on Tuesday evening, armed with my credit card, I tried again, and still no luck. And though the difference between paying online and paying at the airport represented £8, it's an £8 that could look like £800 when your belly empty. lol. So I called again and got a very wonderful and friendly agent named Gail, who herself tried and confirmed my suspicion - the website was crap. Sadly, as friendly as she was, Gail could not give me my £8 discount over the phone and I was left with no choice but to go to the airport and pay the full £40. Smurfy I was not. BA's rating had quickly gone from a top pick of say, 9, to a meagre 3. But they're back to being a 9, and perhaps even a 10. I got to the airport and not only were my constant complaints logged in and available to the ticket agent, but it was proof that I had indeed tried to access mih £8 discount so guess who managed to keep her £8 in her pocket? And try as I did, my bags were still overweight, though just by 1kg a piece. Some hater would have made me pay that £30 but the poor student won again and I was politely scolded and allowed to board without a fuss.

So KUDOS TO BRITISH AIRWAYS and welcome back to being my #1 airline!

There was no crying at the airport. My mother held up well. But there was lots of crying on the plane. I held up well but the child next to me did not. Other than that, it was uneventful, from plane to Border Control to Customs. I made it...without having to cut my eye at anyone. Kudos to me.

It's surprisingly sunny and bright here though a bit chilly and I am in the house relaxing and watching Murder She Wrote on Sky. I left the house briefly today to go to the bank (but they could not do what I needed so will organise my account on Monday at the branch near school) and a phone card for my mobile. I may take a spin down to Covent Garden and ultimately to Lush tomorrow to get some stuff and meet up with a couple people, and oh...get a converter so I can use my laptop without it catching fire. Funny story...I think I was so tired last night that I did not bother to check voltage requirements etc and just plugged my alarm/radio into the adapter and into the wall. A minute later, there was a crackle, a pop but no cute cereal mascots. Only the acrid smell of my cute RCA radio biting the dust. I still slept like a stone but now I need to buy a new one.

I have zero interest in doing anything else cause I will soon be wishing for days like these when I don't have assignments, reading or exams. So hate me while I kick back with a glass of Tropicana red grape juice and some shrimp ravioli. I will be hating you soon enough.

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Skype Me, Mama

Just as an aside: I am in the mood for KFC for some odd reason.

I have had a mini training session which went splendidly. It was the Skype 101 programme for mums dealing with a newly emptier nest. I really think I may have created a Skyping monster now, but at least I can keep abreast of the Trini/homefront happenings while I am away. I can chat with baby and macco de scenes. Yes. This was a very essential and useful training session today. She has already gotten email down, so I can proudly say my mother is not a technological dinosaur.

Now if I could just get her off the laptop for 5 minutes!

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Past, Present and Future

The best part of any job would definitely be the people. I have been blessed to have made some really great friends during my career. My girlfriends from my last job took me out to lunch yesterday at one of my favourite restaurants, Chaud, and I highly recommend the oxtail cannelloni, friends. I mean, two of my favourite things in one meal - oxtail and pasta. Who would have thought? (the image there is not my actual lunch. taking a photo of it would have just been ghetto! It actually looked much better than this)

But the mascara drama really got going back at the office where my present colleagues attempted to surprise me with a farewell shindig. I had gotten a meeting request earlier in the day that gave it away for though it purported to be a  meeting about Wednesday's budget presentation and its implications for our business, I was like I'm leaving so why would I be invited to this? Easy giveaway. But that did not stop it from being extremely sentimental. They really are, and this is no BS, a great bunch of people and they made my time there memorable. Each job has its crap moments and some days you go Why am I working here? But even if you leave you always miss the people. I will miss the people very much.

But I will be stylin'. At lunch we were talking about how you never let anyone know you're down. Your outer projection, even if your finances are in the toilet, your man has left you, or you have serious issues, should be one of utter confidence, poise and fabulousity. So though I will be unemployed and counting pences religiously, I will be ferosh! Thanks to my colleagues for my fabulous school bag.

Today I get to spend all day with my cute as a button nephew. Pity he is too small and too adorable to be put to work cause I will also be packing and making dhalpuri. I am tired, have neck and shoulder pains and a bit cranky but ever so blessed as always. Eid Mubarak everyone.

p.s. Oh, forgot about the Future part of the entry. So on the networking site for the Sep 2010 intake of students, I have already gotten a stalker. A Nigerian stalker. You know how I feel about Nigerian men. God has a weird sense of humour. lol.

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Rain, Traffic and Taxi - Lethal Combo

When it's raining, there is traffic and you have to take public transportation, you know it's going to be a bad day.

Today was my first day in a long time not sitting behind the wheel of a car. Having sold my car, my last 2 days at work will mean I have to bus it or taxi it. This morning was horrendous. Just horrendous!

First I got a taxi from my town to the city. It would usually take approximately 18-22 minutes. It took 8. This man had zero consideration for my safety. I don't care if he wants to die, but being so close to something I have been looking forward to for so long, I did not want to end it now. Eight minutes later I crossed myself and said never again. Additionally, why do I always get a taxi where at least one person smells like old gym socks? He is on a roll with the prizes this morning, because the driver was REAL frowsy smelling. When I first sat in the car, I smelled baby powder from the woman in the front seat, Curve from Indian fella next to me, and add my Heat by Beyonce and things were shaping up nicely in the aroma department. Then the driver entered the car and it all went downhill from there. I don't think he has washed that t-shirt in years, but wow...he was really frowsy. If he has a wife, shame on her for sending her man out smelling like a bag of old clothes.

Of course there is also always some ass who has ZERO consideration for the fact that I took some time to try to make my must-visit-salon hair neat and presentable. This prize goes to the clown (the Curve fella) on my right who rolled the window down and the 4am breeze threatened to whip my hair into a frenzy but while I was probably prepared to crash due to the Mach 10 driving, I was not willing to have f...d up hair, so I had a word with him and the window went up. Priorities.

So now I needed to get a taxi to Port of Spain and before I could close the car door, the North-South vultures all swooped down on me and my $15. I saw one guy, sniffed him out, scoped out his taxi and then had a stern word with him.

Me: Driver, I just want to tell you right now, I cannot handle any speeding eh.
Driver: Nah. Yuh safe
Me: I safe? Doh be mamaguying me for my $15 you know. If I feel like you're going too fast, I will not be paying eh.
Driver: Nah darling, yuh good. Just tap me on my shoulder if you feel I going too fast for you.
Me: Because I have plenty to live for. I have a lil nephew I want to see get married and ting.
Driver: Oh gosh darling, why you hadda talk so?
Me: Because the man I just came up with clearly did not appreciate my life
Driver: Come come. You safe with me.

Needless to say, when I sat down in the very clean, fresh smelling taxi, and heard the gospel music and the sermon on the radio, I said, this man will not lie to me. And he had not. He handled himself and his taxi nicely along the wet roads, in the traffic. He did do some shoulder hogging but that is expected but my life was not in any danger, at least not from him. Maybe from the guy snoring like a garbage truck crusher next to me, but not from high speed drama. When we got to POS, I thanked him for his consideration and he told me come again. lol.

Little does he know that if I have to sell my body to ensure I have a car when I come back home to avoid ever having to do this again, I will.

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From Mum-Ra to She-Ra

The way I was feeling up to 5 minutes ago:

The way I feel now, after my Rituals mochaccino.

A barista has the power to transform crotchety, bitchy, exhausted women into goddesses with the whirr of his espresso machine. Forget doctors and lawyers and executives, ladies. Marry a barista!

My nephew was sick yesterday with a bit of a cold, so had to stay out later than usual to take his mum back home as my brother is back at work for the week. I came home to answer emails and fell asleep over the laptop and over my Cheerios. It also meant home made macaroni and cheese for lunch cause that is all I could muster on .5% power.

I also have one more day of foolish phone calls to deal with. I had placed an ad in the paper, putting Goldie, my lovely car, up for sale. It went in a flash but since I had paid for the ad to run for a week, it meant I would get calls for the duration. I have gotten genuine, normal callers, and some weird, annoying callers. The best one was this morning

Me: Hello
Man: Yeah. I calling about the car for sale
Me: I am sorry. Someone bought it already
Man: What? Already? But yuh just put this today!
Me: No. The ad has been in the paper since last week.
Man: But I eh see this ad and I checking the paper everyday
Me: (getting annoyed) Okay. Wellllllll, is this my fault?
Man: I just saying I now seeing this today and I buy papers everyday and checking everyday
Me: Okay sir. Well anyway, the car has been sold. Sorry
Man: So if yuh sell it, why the ad still in the papers?
Me: (this man for real?) That's how classifieds work, sir. They print it for as long as the payment allows.
Man: Well yuh make me waste a phone call. How long the car gone?
Me: Sir, I am sorry. The car has been sold. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks for calling.

I think I tolerated him real long. The worst is giving Trinis access to your personal space. They shit in it.

Also, as I watch the Budget presentation, can someone tell me why on earth, in 2010, in Trinidad and Tobago, are we still using, instead of modern closed captioning, some fuddy duddy woman in a circle in the corner of my screen using sign language? I mean...REALLY???

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She's Really Leaving?

So now that HR has decided to share resignations on the intranet, I guess everyone knows I am leaving. The reactions so far have mostly been that of shock and dismay, and I have to say, that's a bit flattering. I did not realise I was so highly regarded by my peers. Interesting. I also got the more touching and sentimental reactions - the ones that can lead to mascara drama, so I beat it out of those conversations pretty damn quick. Lots of congratulations and looks of "wish it were me". lol. Lots of words of support and it really meant a lot. The phone has been ringing off the hook as more people log on to the intranet and see my name plastered across the screen. Not the way I want my business out there, but what's done is done. It's funny. People keep asking if it's a misprint and if it's really my name on the list. lol. It's nice to know I have made some kind of valid contribution. The last phone call was pretty awesome. I really feel blessed and appreciated. You don't always know if you're appreciated when you work somewhere, but I have had the good fortune of really feeling the love from those I have worked with.

Still, the work continues. I could easily have signed off and said Eff this! I am leaving so this is no longer my headache. But I am not that type of employee. I will give my best until the very last day. However, my fabulousity has suffered slightly. I did not pass an iron on today's earth toned outfit, but I did make the effort with the eye makeup. I was so tired last night that I almost put a pair of jeans on, but then that would not have flown with the old school hierarchy.

I am about 85% complete with the clearing of my desk and wished the clearing of my bedroom was so far along. My God. How does one girl have so many items of clothing? It's funny. When I went off into the world of the undergrad, it was a real sacrifice. Not to say this isn't cause it is, but my parents were not well off and I did not have to worry too much about sorting clothes because I did not have a lot of nice things as I do now. It was hard then but I rallied. Now, I have to temper my desire to pack every blouse, every pair of pants, with practical restraint. I have come a long way. It will not be easy going back to being a scrunting student after years of getting a salary but I am used to sacrifice by now. I will make it with or without my leopard print high heeled pumps.

I have also found 2 Trinis via Facebook who will be enrolling with me and one high school girlfriend who, though not in the same school, will be joining the super fabulous life of the unemployed postgrad student in London as well.

The saga continues...

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Sky High Rant

I usually never sleep on long flights because I have crappy circulation and I like to get up and walk and stretch my legs every hour or so but believe me, by the time I get on ole BA 21whatever, I will be completely knackered. Moving a bed from one corner to another is hard work and tiring. Moving a life from one hemisphere to another is simply exhausting. And juggling my day job and my side job as Super Trininista, packing and transferring sold vehicle etc is really taking a toll. Okay, well maybe I am making it sound totally terrifying but shite, I am really tired.

I also have a rant. I remember when I was a student at UWI in Jamaica, good ole Bwee aka Caribbean Airlines had luggage concessions for students, recognising that we had books, we had clothes, we had food, we had equipment in some cases. So when your old grip was busting at the seams with a year of your life stuffed inside, and your other bag had a semester's worth of food (because all Trini students in trying to beat the Jamaican inflation reserved one bag for non perishable foodstuff), the counter staff at Bwee were very accomodating. I not saying they were selling the hog cause I had to pay overweight charges once cause I got there after all the other hungry students had come in with their overstuffed bags, but they made an effort to understand our plight.

Fast forward now to the age of airline capitalism where you might soon have to pay to pee on an airplane, and I am packing a year of my life away and of course, I dunno if you can do it, but trying to fit a year of your life, even if you're drabulous and not fabulous (like me)  into one suitcase is impossible. My winter coat alone took up half of one bag, not to mention boots and other cold weather accoutrements. Of course I still have to buy other things when I arrive in ole Blighty cause yuh cyah pack everything, but one bag, with my Caribbean skin and hair toiletries and warm clothes is already stuffed. Let's face it, Boots cyah help me, my black skin and my black hair! Boots is no Pennywise! What's more, this is not Jamaica I am going to, so I have not a scrap of food in the bag - just clothes, heavy coats/sweaters, just shoes, just books, my laptop. I am not being unreasonable!

Now don't get me wrong eh. I think among all the airlines I have used in my life, British Airways ranks at the top with excellent in-flight service, timely departures, great movies, though the food could use a bit of haute cuisine love. BA is great. But...British Airways allows you ONE free bag and one cabin bag, which already has my laptop and yuh doh wanna be stuffing too many things into the bag with your laptop. I mean, seriously? You eh talk about jeans and then your warm weather clothes yet. I mean, BA, I not asking for a free extra bag, but oh gosh, a lil discount at least!

So with this dilemma in mind and vexation that these people have no consideration for students coming from tropical Third World countries, I tweeted to British Airway's rep and was told I needed to call 1-800-AIRWAYS. Let me just say this BA, doh waste a big woman's time eh. When I called the number, I got a dude who told me they only ever made concessions to missionaries going to feed the poor in places like Africa. I kid you not. But missionaries doh wear clothes other than what...a pair of shorts and an old shirt and some boots? They don't need two bags! The food they are taking to Africa cannot fit into a bag. It's called cargo. I am not asking for cargo concessions. Just a discount on my university-bound bag. Uni books are not paperback novels. They are heavy. Where is the consideration for higher education? No consideration that students

1.are  unemployed and probably trying to save the £32 these bandits at BA and God knows who else (Virgin? AA?) charging for each additional bag
2. need to pack more than the average traveller cause they are packing for a year or more

But to the Twitter person, this is not a new thing so I am sure you knew what phone dude was going to tell me so why make me waste the phone call? C'mon. I am as busy as you are.

I am not sure if Caribbean Airlines still allow students luggage concessions nowadays but a belated bless you for your hospitality back then. I will pay my £32 cause I will not be naked and cold in London because of BA. But they better at least have a better meal than the meals they served when I travelled with them in July and August. I deserve at least that. My deep BA loyalty is being seriously tested.

RBTT - also on my sh... list.

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For Sale: Love, Sex and Marriage

A friend shared this video with me and besides the obvious hilarity of it (only a Trini has this kinda time to waste...lol) it really is an amusing reflection of a segment of the local dating scene. In fact, it is not so uncommon in other places either. A dude buys you a drink and though after having to pay for my own drink at a party once, and recognising just how expensive cocktails can be, a $30 drink does not equal commitment.

I saw an episode of Oprah once where a grown woman, I mean a woman in her 50s, was asking Oprah whether it was expected that after a man paid for dinner, that she should sleep with him. I am not sure where this whole material barter thing started - food or drink for sex - but I would hope that more women would appreciate that they are worth more than a plate of ribs or a beer, like my puppet friend in the video. True, some women up the ante and barter sex and companionship for more expensive things like a house, car, trips etc, giving rise to the sugar daddy syndrome, which I support, tongue in cheek. lol. But is love - be it physical or the whole deal - really on sale?

 I just loved the video and wanted to share it. I have a myriad of things I need to do today and I think I should go take a shower.

I have also added some of my favourite products to my Amazon widget, located on the top left of the bloggy blog, so check them out. You may want to order something. I will be changing them out regularly.

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Missing the Water when the Well Runs Dry

I am not a huge Christmas person. I have not been a huge Christmas person since I was a child. It's a lot of bollocks, with all the crazy shopping, squandermania, topsy turvy cleaning, none of which I will miss. But I will miss the Christmas cooking. And the parents and my nephew. Christmas in London has a lot to make up for, lemme tell ya. But I have started off with my best foot forward.

Yes. I pre-ordered and will be packing my pastelles in my luggage and I hope noone from Customs is reading this but even if you are, we will have to fight for these pastelles. I really actually enjoy making my own pastelles but who has that kinda time, and worse would I be able find the good cornmeal in London? I may also take up some dried sorrel and hope to God the Brits don't think it's some kinda new hallucinogenic herb for smoking. This will be my first Christmas ever away from home and it feels odd already. I will miss my nephew's first Christmas and cute stuff like that and it's these things that make me want to change my plans and stay home. But then I have days like today at the office (hellish) and it reminds me to call the High Commission and confirm the time I can pick up my passport with my visa.

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The Good, the Bad and the Reality: The T.O. Show/Ochocinco

My reality tv fix last night was about football players. I don't know a damn thing about American football, nor do I care to know, but the NFL sure is getting some PR - whether they want it or not - via the reality show vehicles of two of their most flamboyant and controversial stars. Terrell Owens and Chad Johnson...sorry...Ochocinco both have joined the fray of sad celebrities looking for more fame on VH1 - which once upon a time, like MTV used to be a music channel. I am not complaining because both men are in fine and ripping form.

But black people strike again! I mean, first it was Chilli from TLC dating and finally choosing vanilla latte over mochaccino on her reality show "What Chilli Wants". Now Ochocinco and T.O have weaves across America in a bunch with their flagrant display of, and this is a new term for me, colourism, i.e. dating non-black women. Are we still on this old junk? Apparently so. I mean, to each his own. The funny thing about it is the T.Os and Ochocincos of the world aren't interested in the Maggie Mayhem from the block. Their lifestyles are fast, furious and frenzied and the women who will throw themselves at them are the same. Do you want to be a female statistic? Maybe they have a type - ditzy groupies. Are you really aspiring to be a football groupie?  Really?

Everyone is allowed to like whomever they want to like. I am black and have dated black men, white men and potpourri men and black men get all upset because you may find a white dude to be cute. So I guess I am a colourist! Well, I thought I was human and free to date whomever I wanted to date. I was not aware there was a formula for this thing. Seriously...it's old.


I think this comment sums it up for me though:

It never ceases to amaze me how when a black man has a great deal of money to his name, its in blood that he has to have a black woman on his arm. If he was T.O. the fedex man, none of you would give a damn
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In the meantime, I get to admire the fine male athletic form of both men. I don't want to date 'em. I just like looking at the form. And reality shows are in essence, simply hilarious!

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