Three Degrees of Sexy, and Four Degrees Celsius

Brrrrrr. It is biting in London today. I all but pounced on the train this afternoon, just eager to get on it. The heater is on. I refused to even go back out to put the recyclables in the bin. Nope. This is it for me.

Once upon a time I used to stay up late to watch the Oscars, but then I said to myself, these people are millionaires and I am not. I have to get up early to make a hundredth of what they make. Sleep is more important. I love movies but not to the detriment of my beauty sleep not to mention my personality. Lack of sleep + trininista = homicidal creature. And with the time difference, well...forget it. I am glad that The King's Speech won everything they should have won. I cannot comment on Best Supporting Actress cause I have not seen Melissa Leo in The Fighter, but Helena Bonham-Carter, though a bit weird, is an excellent actress and I would have liked to have seen her win. But Christian Bale got his and I am happy for that.

But my first sexy - is this woman aging at all? My God. My personal hero, this one. Stunning. My Oscar winner.


Halle Berry at the 2011 Academy Awards
Courtesy: Yahoo

 And though I am not really a techie person, this just looks sexy and I want one. The Dell Inspiron Duo convertible tablet. Not an Apple groupie really. Sorry.

The Dell Inspiron Duo Convertible Tablet - sexy

Finally, lunch with the neighbours yesterday was truly impressive. True Caribbean hospitality. Everything was so incredibly good and by the time I left their place, I was stuffed. And though Arsenal losing the Carling Cup Final jeopardised my fishcakes, she still sent over apple pie and custard, and a slice of good Barbadian sponge cake. Wicked. I can say nothing ill about my wonderful neighbours here in London. That pie was uber sexy.

Homemade apple pie, with yummy vanilla custard courtesy my awesome neighbours

My pillow right now - super sexy. I am so tired. I am going to insulate myself under the covers and try to stave off frostbite, and get some sleep in the process so I can hopefully be academically productive later.  This heater is taking its damn time to warm up my room though.

And while I may not miss out on sleep to watch a bunch of rich people collect awards, I will miss sleep to watch a bunch of Trinis fight it out for $2million on Friday night.  9.30pm start time in Trinidad, means 1.30am start time in London. God help me.

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Outfoxed

It's so cold. I am bundled up in layers inside, with a glass of port and the neighbour is outside, gardening. GARDENING!!! These people are nuts.

I finished my final exam yesterday - hopefully my final exam for life. Still not in a great place and I still have assignments due, but such is life. I have another random photo, this one from an old Daily Mail. You would never believe London was a metropolitan city based on the critters running around the place.

Photo courtesy The Daily Mail

Oh when I saw this I cracked a smile. I remember when I was seeing a Brit and he first told me about urban foxes, I was like, what? Foxes in the city? Impossible. I thought he was pulling my leg, until my very first visit in 2007, when I was coming home after a night of fun and as I crossed the street, there was Fantastic Mr Fox awaiting me. Not knowing whether this thing was fierce or not, I stopped dead in my tracks, despite the cold breeze. I was fully prepared to freeze, rather than be mauled by Foxy, having never seen or encountered a fox in my life and not knowing if he was a mean bugger. But he was more scared of me, and ran away. I have now grown used to seeing them around - with one regularly sleeping under our wine shed - hopeully not drinking our whites and reds to stay warm - but I never saw them in a train station, which was where this escalator happy fox was captured on camera. Imagine running for your train and in front of you, on the escalator is a fox - going about his business, in the middle of the day, with not a care in the world. It's little things like these that make me smile.

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Heels? Flip Flops? Try...Life in Fluffy Socks and Fluffy Slippers!

The hottest feet in London these days...

I am so unsexy right now. Trudging around the house in sweats and layers of clothing, despite the heater being on because guess who's back? Fiery Fever! Woot woot! What a way to roll out of 2010, eh? And fluffy socks are part of any sick diva's armoury - I have them in pink, purple, black with sparklies, yellow. But who can match when you just want to lie in bed under the blankie all day?

But who can lie under the blankie all day when one has to read what has the most boring load of roasting hot turd ever conceptualised by idle homosapiens? Oh my God. Who cares about questionnaires and multivariate methods and sampling? It is so tedious. I think it is exacerbating my illness quite frankly!!!

I am not getting better it seems. I felt better yesterday but woke up this morning and  today I felt 100 times worse and I am now contemplating going to a GP but I am too scared to leave the house and go out into the cold. lol.

Looking forward to this...

Home, sweet home

You know I went to Tesco and saw Carib beer priced at £1.62 - and after doing the math quickly in my head, yuh know I left that right there, especially since the exported Carib is watered down for foreign palates and tastes like mess. But boy, was it a joy to behold nonetheless. Now if I saw me some Crix...well, that is another matter altogether!

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Sniffles, no snuggles

Coming down with a cold. I think between standing in the cold on Saturday morning, Saturday night and Sunday evening, and then with the weather being hot and then 2 mins later, chilly, this was bound to happen.

The bbq was fab. Everyone had a great time, and the pelau was well embraced by all, and I was completely toasty after copious volumes of wine in all colours and nationalities. I just lay on the couch with a huge smile on my face, and bepped until 3am. Then we faced a seemingly unassailable task of cleaning up the kitchen before I finally hit the bed at 5am. At noon I was dressed and off to cricket, where the team I was expected to support was totally abysmal. I mean, there I was, all cute and imaginary pom poms in hand and the team allowed a bunch of fat, rolly polly Brits beat them. However, I must add that 90% of the team were out until 5am at a soca party and were nursing hangovers and more. It was really hilarious. The eye candy on the other team (not the fatties) was marvellous, and behind my sunglasses I smiled lustily. The smiling did not last very long as the cold winds picked up and my cute outfit complemented by a matching pashmina just were no match for the biting Blighty breeze and I knew this cold would soon take hold of my brown Trini body.

Last night's post-cricket dinner was jerk chicken and wine, and it was another late night so it was not a happy woman who rolled off the bed at 7am to keep an appointment outside of central London. Add the sniffles and cold-induced arthritis (I'm sure that is what this shoulder pain is all about) and I am not the hottest thing out today. I am going to drown in some ice cream, Redoxon, Comtrex, white wine and sleep and hope to feel better in the morning.

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