"Me" is not a dirty word

Love your aloneness

Do you have a problem dining alone?

Today, on my day off, I decided to have lunch at a new restaurant I had not yet tried. The original plan was to meet the girls later this evening, but one by one, they bailed on the plan. I could have just rescheduled and met up with them to try this place out next week or whenever, or I could have gotten out of bed and trussed up for a lunch for one. I ended up choosing the latter, which is my usual course of action when I really want to do something. And with it being International Women's Day, I was even more empowered, especially with the lure of complimentary wine in honour of the occasion. So I got dressed, got myself cutesified, grabbed my Kindle and had a very lovely lunch on my day off.

But this is something I do regularly, and not just with lunch, but with life. If I were to wait for others to step in before I decided to do anything, I would be stuck at home, on this island, for all eternity.

But it is more than being brave enough to "be alone" in a grouped up, coupled up world.

I sent my girlfriend a text to tell her I liked the place in general (the staff were very surly but my waitress saved the entire experience), and her response was "Well, I need to get someone to take me there".

My response was "Take yourself".

It's about just doing things for yourself sometimes. Sure we are programmed for social connections, and I am not this man-hater. Hardly. But at the same time, why can't we enjoy who we are sometimes, without the extra trappings? Why does a man have to take you somewhere in order for you to go? Can't you just "take yourself"?  Can't you set aside a monthly "me" allowance to just do something? Whether you're single or in a relationship, I think everyone needs some "me" time every once in a while. And there's nothing wrong with that. Why do we sometimes make "me" a dirty word?

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ABC's Scandal: Fixing the Tragic Life of Singles

Single politician Will Caldwell
and his fixee on ABC's Scandal
Photo credit: Danny Feld/ABC

So like a lot of people nowadays, I sat down with a wafer after Grey's Anatomy, and watched ABC's Scandal. While I am not about to start any arguments about the show, I do want to comment on one thing.

So one of the sub-plots last night was around a Kennedy-esque type candidate for Governor. A driven and committed guy, from the right family background, with the media darling looks. Only one problem - he's single!

So I chuckled throughout the storyline.

1. He's educated, rich, good looking, from one of those families you apparently want to marry into, but the only thing WRONG with him, is he is single. lol. Referring to yesterday's blog post, he is a male leftover, and in political circles, that is a sin! While it was good to see the single man getting abused last night, I am still in the corner of all single people, advocating that it is not a tragedy! Is it??

2. So he's educated, rich, good looking etc, with no wife, no girlfriend, no signs of a woman anywhere - just single and moving along with his little politics hobby, so guess what? He MUST be gay! Yep. Single and with no obvious signs of a relationship, so clearly, you're gay and in the closet. This is real though. This does not only play out on tv! Turns out the guy was not gay but instead just creeping with his sister-in-law for the past decade.

3. Olivia insists that if given ten years, she can get a gay president elected. A gay president with a partner! But not a SINGLE president - gay or otherwise. ROFL. I mean, is there no hope for the singleton?

In the end, things were so bad for this very openly single dude, that they resorted to finding him a fake wife. Yes...a fake wife! So not only does Olivia Pope fix political messes, but she fixes the tragic life of the singleton. The DC matchmaker if you will.

Do you need an Olivia Pope for your tragic single life?

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Leftover Syndrome: The Last Single Woman Standing

A fridge full of leftovers. A society of leftovers?

I read this article this morning, and in my "It's 6am and I am already at my desk, sour and annoyed" state of mind, it elicited a bitter laugh.

It refers to the single, educated, urban woman - that woman over the geriatric age of 27 - and whom the Chinese society describes as "leftover women". You know, like that leftover turkey from Thanksgiving, or a leftover roti skin from the weekend get-together.

Well hear what - leftovers rock! Ask anyone who has made a good pelau this question - when is the best time to eat pelau? The answer: The day after. Leftover pelau. Hey, microwaves have made leftovers a Godsend, so China - bite me!

This whole notion of there being an age limit to marriage for WOMEN really grinds me. The Trini parlance is that you, the unmarried woman age 25 and up, are on the shelf, while all the other kids have been placed in the trolley and have been checked out by the cashier. Is there an expiration date guiding singledom? Is there a cut off date before you need to go buy knitting needles and adopt some shelter cats and get a t-shirt that says "Gnarly, Bitter Spinster"? And why are there no leftover men? Why this bias?

This is stupid. Okay, just stupid.

This part of the article was interesting and funny though.

Some local governments in China have taken to organising matchmaking events where educated young women can meet eligible bachelors.

How bizarre. Is there a Minister of Matchmaking? Ministry of Cupid? Can you imagine? Social programmes to ensure the best men and women get together and make some cute, bright kids. This is apparently as a result of the government actually wanting the leftover women - the creme de la creme of the society - to procreate. So we have come full circle, where the women being maligned are the women in demand to ensure the bright future of the society. Leftovers are awesome!

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Of Love and Lent

No Men Allowed - 40 Day Rule!

So I have failed already at my 2013 commitment to be a better blogger. I will admit to you fine people that 2013 has not been a happy, shiny time so far. I did not have a stellar end to 2012 and 2013 started with that yucky after taste which for some reason, I have yet to properly rinse out. But I won't be trolling through that bog here in the blog. Instead...

Let's talk about two "significant" observances. Firstly, Valentine's Day. Though it has come and gone (thankfully), I feel I must state my annoyance with this day and how it tends to isolate single people. As if planning a vacation as a single person is not bad enough, with their lack of specials for single travellers, thus forcing one to pay for that useless double occupancy special offer, the annual promotion of love, and sweet nothingness can also be a real ball buster.

Then there's Lent. As you should know, Lent is that period observed by many Christian denominations as a time for prayer and fasting, leading up to Good Friday. A lot of the die-hards fast from meat, and/or all animal products. Others give up vices such as alcohol - I tend to give up alcohol though I seem to have fallen off the Lenten wagon, and again, this is part of my lack of focus so far for the year. Other vices listed by friends include

• Chocolate - how is this ever a vice?? 
• The internet - good luck with that Facebook stalkers 
• Mobile/smartphones - a direct follow on from the above. Good luck Whatsappers and Instagrammers
• Cussing - road ragers will be fun to watch with this one

And then one bright girlfriend decided that the only way to really purge her soul was to give up men for the 40-day fasting period. Men.

• Men - definitely in the "vice" category; maddening and often toxic; at the same time, can be almost (almost) as good as chocolate (but always a bridesmaid, never a bride)

Her fast will cover abstinence from male admirers, dates, including group dates, flirting, Facebook stalking.

What do you think? Do you think she will be saved??

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LinkedIn or Link Up?: Woes of the Single Professional

LinkedIn Dating? Really?
Photo credit: Business Insider

Two entries in one day - how lucky you are!

I am sure many of you, at one time or another, have been virtually accosted by strange men or women on social networking sites, whether it is Facebook, or to a lesser extent Twitter (if you have a Twitter hook up story, please share). I have had friends of friends hit me up for dates and stuff on Facebook, though why they feel Facebook is a dating site is a bit beyond me.

However, I did not think that I would get date requests and be hit up on freakin' LinkedIn. LinkedIn - the social networking site for business. The site where you clean up well, with a nice professional looking photo, and you talk shop with your peers, try to make connections, and look for new opportunities. That was what I thought it was for. So imagine my dismay to find a connection request from some random guy, and a note that was anything but business-driven, unless the business he is in is matchmaking, pimping or soft porn. To make matters worse, he listed his actual job, and has a photo - though the photo itself was more Facebook party time, than business.

Is this what we have come to? Trolling any and every site for a hook up? Maybe he felt that he can find a good wife - employed and possibly a sugar mama type. But I was totally unimpressed. Totally.

Then I remembered this.




There is a REAL market out there for people looking for professionals as matches and I am not disagreeing with this, and this service does not open up all of LinkedIn for the lonely hearts out there which is good. I would then suggest people like Mr Wonderful sign up for this, and not use general LinkedIn as a meat market. Most of us are really not using it for that. Or are we???

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Find God's Match For You

Christian love. All kinda love.

So when I see this Christian Mingle ad, I always have a laugh. The people who came up with this marketing campaign are pretty bold, pretty out there. To confidently promote this online dating service for Christians, with the tagline – Find God’s match for you – well, that takes some balls.

It always conjures up this image of God relaxing on the patio, in his robe and warm slippers, with a cappuccino, maybe a croissant or a Danish, maybe a cigar (hey, they started it), with his iPad or Galaxy Tab, going through his list of Christians looking for love and matching Joe with Jill, Brad with Melanie – all before he gets to the real work of blessing people, curing the sick, etc.

I mean – seriously, people. Find God’s match for you? Who came up with this? Who approved this marketing campaign?

I am curious as to the algorithm that matches the ones seeking love on this site. I mean, did an Archbishop somewhere get a memo from God which he then shared with IT developers? What if the love-seeker is not a Christian? Does the person get zapped while trying to sign up?

God's message in your inbox?

I have absolutely no problem with a niche-specific dating site – black singles, gay singles, Caribbean singles, etc. You want what you want, and if you can trim the fat and get to the meat of the matter, right down to brass tax, right down to your target niche, whether it is a black guy, Caribbean girl or Christian single, then great. However, I just found the advertising for this to be a bit ludicrous. Find God’s match for you. I wonder if they got God’s okay to use his name in these ads! It’s almost as stupid as God’s and Jesus’ Facebook and Twitter profiles. Who does these things?

But more importantly, and for all the non-Christian minglers out there - does this mean that Match and e-Harmony are the other guy’s sites? I mean, as if dating was not traumatic enough!

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Ladies - Are you suffering from the "It All Belongs to Me" Dilemma?

So I am under self-imposed exile this weekend - from the universe. It's been a harrowing week and I am also a bit social-life weary so made the conscious decision to just stay at home ALL weekend and not do anything. I have been excelling at this.

So it has been just me, my book, my laptop and my DVD player, the occasional muffin, a tempting Magnum ice cream bar in the freezer, and my pillow,  and it's been awesome.

And I have been listening to some tunes, like this one.





Now, I love this song. These ladies are so talented and so gorgeous and I love when they collaborate. Monica is a star, believe it. Love her voice, her sass.

However, the song has me a bit perplexed. lol.

In the first place, the song is in a nutshell asking the guy - the now ex - to leave all the stuff bought for him during the relationship. The car, the bling, the macbook. I mean...why buy him this in the first place? And there is no mention of what he has bought for the chick. None. Zero. Nil. Not even a pair of underwear!

Which brings me to my next point -

All you do is talk
Never knew you to do nothing else
You ain't good for nothing baby

So WHY are you with this no-profit, no-contribution (emotional, financial or otherwise) man? And on top of that, you STILL buying him the car and the Macbook!! You an ass!

Am I losing it here? Is it just me or is this woman a damn idiot too? I mean, if I were the man I would say, "Baby, I worked for this Macbook. I chain up your head so bad that you still loved me and bought me stuff even though I was a good for nothing!"

Ladies, ladies - don't do this! Just don't do it. This is why being single can sometimes be edifying and liberating and just plain better! lol.

No sympathy from me, ladies. But the song is still beautifully done.

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Cosmopolitan Love...or Single Gal Stalking

Cosmopolitan love....the nice kind

So of course, no weekend away for the single gal would be complete without some single gal adventures.

First of all, I must admit that the quality of the man candy in Miami was really sub-par. I was really not impressed. I mean, sure it had been a while since my last visit, but where did all the semi-cute guys go? What I did see bordered on “America’s Most Wanted” and “Redneck Rehab” (thanks to my girlfriend, for exposing me to such amazing American pop culture as Redneck Rehab). I mean…wow. It was bad.

What I can easily say now with much confidence is that my stalkers are international. I mean, yes…I am a cosmopolitan stalker magnet. On this trip, I had my first Guyanese stalker (he had to have been Guyanese!!) and my very first Israeli stalker. The Israeli stalker was special. Not only was he mesmerized by the Trini hotness, but he was so gobsmacked that he scribbled his number on a piece of paper and urged me to call him. I have the number in the back pocket of my jeans – a souvenir of my international prowess – but no call was ever made. Not sure where ashy ankle, old guy stalker was from, but he kept staring at me in the store with this hungry, rabid look that made me feel like I was covered in honey barbecue sauce. Oh and let's not forget the Hispanic-American TSA dude who felt it would be remiss of him to not subtly or not so subtly "invite" himself to my hotel while he checked my landing card.

There were also some very strange social rituals brought on either by alcoholic overindulgence (God, I hope so) or just by simple insanity/lasciviousness. We went to the Clevelander at Marlins Park on Saturday night and wow, these girls were really high on life (insert sarcasm here). One girl was the obvious “star” with her antics which included dancing in-between the legs of the moko jumbie, then falling to the floor and thrusting her pelvis upwards in what is a dance only she knows. She also coupled this with some girl-on-girl action with another scantily clad psycho, who proceeded to grab pelvic girl’s rump, gyrate on it, and then when pelvic girl was on the floor doing the pelvic thrust dance, this one raised the already short skirt to gyrate over her. God only knows what this was about, but it was disturbing and only slightly entertaining. There was a bit too much of a Sodom and Gomorrah vibe going on here. Lol. Needless to say, in as much as the deejaying was a mess, this sideshow was the best entertainment for the evening.

Rest assured though, I was a mere bystander and spectator and your girl was nowhere in the fracas. Not sure where my passport will take me next but God, let’s hope the single gal adventures are more smurfy, and less Gargamel.

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Call Me...Maybe: Dating has gone Beserk

Forza Italia! Forza Azzurri!

Of course it is football time in Trininista land (where we do NOT say "soccer") with the European Cup, or Euro 2012, on.

These are the times a girl - well, this girl - looks forward to in life. Being a long time fan of the Azzurri, and for the non-footballing heathens, that's the Italy national squad, I will be plotting some sort of plan to be able to see that do-or-die game tomorrow, as I sit in a meeting for 3 hours!!!

But in other more disturbing news, and I felt I needed to bring this to the fore...the Call Me Maybe card.

The Call Me Maybe Card - sad

Isn't this a tad bit desperate? On the flip side, one may say this is ingenious and proactive. But I am not sure how I would react if some guy came up to me in a bar and gave me one of these. It is too obvious and too orchestrated. This guy is walking around my bar, with a card holder full of these things. Is he just passing them out like candy to anything female that moves? Am I supposed to feel special after receiving one of these ? Then he has his Facebook page listed - maybe with all his glamour shots, and what else? Testimonials? What's wrong with saying hello? Okay, maybe the girl will roll her eyes and walk away. Maybe she will laugh at you with her friends. But isn't that part of the game? lol. This just took the game from sport to creepy activity. Sorry. I mean it's bad enough that when you meet a guy these days, he does not even call. He wants to BBM you or IM you - total lack of proper communication skills. Now we have to put up with dating call cards? Really?

p.s. I don't roll my eyes unless you have gold teeth, cannot construct a sentence or you refer to me by some body part, or by my complexion. Take that as a hint as to what NOT to do.

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Flirting World Championships

The Three Bears...of Flirting??

Girls' night last Friday reminded me of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

Enter our bartender/waiter aka Goldilocks - although he was a tall, chocolate, bald brother. He  started as just the bartender, which he is, but the allure of the Three Bears before him had him doing double duty.

Ahhh...the bears...

...three swanky and stunning bears -  J Bear, K Bear and Trininista Bear.

On the one hand, you had J Bear who has no real appreciation or grasp of the power...the art...the science of flirting. She does not flirt. She is very left brained; very analytical; very matter of fact. The guy brings a drink and she says thanks. lol. Even if he is waiting for a hint that he can do that thing bartenders do - to get you to spend more money - small talk, flattery, smiles, etc. Nope. She does not tease, she does not twirl the straw coyly, she does not give a little pepper and wit in her responses. No hooded eyes, no pouts. No tracing the glass with a manicured finger. Nope. She picks that drink up and ...drinks it. lol. She comes dead last in the heat.

Then you have K-Bear - a flirting maniac. I mean, she would flirt with Jesus. She takes flirting to a whole other level - where there are no boundaries and as she describes it, where it is simply "light entertainment". It is fun seeing her in action, but in the case of Goldilocks, she cast the bait, reeled him in and just when he thought he would be plopped onto the boat, she threw him back in the water. I felt really bad for the poor guy. lol. He really had high hopes. She comes first in the heat, but may be disqualified for a false start, and does not care that she is.

Then you have me - T-Bear. I flirt for fun, yes, but I still have some guidelines. I will not flirt with the old, obviously hard up 60-something expat, all alone at the end of a week-long conference, sitting next to me at the bar, maybe looking for some tropical action. K-Bear would. I think that's mean, especially if the guy has high hopes! I flirted with Goldilocks as far as was rational and kind. Poor kid - he did not need the heartbreak. However, if the prey is to my liking, my standards and fitting my criteria - well, let the games begin. I don't always see flirting as sport. Sometimes it can be, but sometimes you want it to have a purpose besides making some poor boy cry at the end of the evening. Or cultivating the beginnings of a stalker. lol. In the race, I am not last, not first, but running a comfortable race, deciding whether I want to chase down the next round of heats.

In the end, we had loads of fun. A true Sex and the City evening. Long overdue and after a tough week, well deserved.

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Prince Charming: The 2012 Version

Yes. I have never proclaimed my love or changed my Facebook relationship status to identify my love, but I think it might be time to do so. It's great when you finally find something real and reliable - trustworthy and delivering performance every single time. So I felt I should show a little appreciation and show him off for the first time. You guys are so lucky.

My faithful Prince Charming - the slow cooker, or crock pot

Isn't he fantastic looking!? Yes. My slow cooker is my Prince Charming. Not only is it trustworthy but when I am tired and need to whip up something delicious and nutritious without slaving over a hot stove for hours, he answers the call. I just dash stuff his way, turn him on and he does all the work, so that all I need to do after a nap is get a plate and dish it out. So at 6am, I dragged myself off the bed and popped everything in, and came back to bed where you can still find me. What man you know does this??

This morning I am doing burritos again for the work lunch for the week. I did them last week but with beef and they were awesome. This week - carnitas burritos! Today, I am doing some pulled pork and my Prince is doing his thing in the kitchen. I have already done the rice, and I am also making the wraps from scratch since I could not find any pre-made wraps in Hi-Lo yesterday. I am also wrapping baby gifts, for a birthday party I have to go to later this afternoon, and going over a presentation on reputation risk intelligence I am doing over the next 3 days at work. See how varied my life is? Pork burritos, baby gifts and high falutin sounding corporate presentations? I am the perfect 2012 Princess!!

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A Fond Farewell to 2011, Hello and Welcome to 2012

I think 2011 was a good year. Really. It started off a bit shaky, as I had a bad flu and started the year bundled up, freezing and seething at the St George’s Circus bus stop in London – waiting for almost 2 hours for my bus.

But it was a year of successes and great people and I am happy about that. I had my fair share of stress –with exams in the very first week. Add trying to study with sinus headaches, sore throat, hacking cough and fever, in the dead of London winter, and you can imagine my ultimate joy! Semester 2, while on paper, looked like it would be a cake walk, was probably worse than the jam-packed semester 1. The assignments never stopped and then of course, the dreaded D – dissertation which was a nightmare of epic proportions! But even with all that, I managed to get it done, with Distinction, and will be heading back to the Big Smoke in no time at all for my graduation.

I started the year as a student and end it as a grad – an employed grad no less, which is much better than many others can say. I am beyond grateful for that, on a very serious level, because so many of my friends are still job hunting and scouring the job ads, and waiting. I gripe about having to roll off my bed at 3.30 am each day and about how tired I am, but I am thankful that I have a job to get off the bed for. The car won’t pay for itself. Yes…the end of public transportation came at the end of 2011 as well – a real triumph for the high heeled princess. I do not miss running after the South Eastern, South West or Southern trains, or hopping maxis back home. Nope. Don’t miss it.

The Pavilion, Brighton

Though I did not get on a plane this year, other than between home and London, I did manage to do some adventuring. The UK, while cold and grisly, is a beautiful country and I explored other parts of London I had not yet explored (not just the cocktail bars and pubs) and also ventured to areas outside of London for a change, including Windsor, Wales, Bath, Bristol, Brighton, Rye and Hastings. If I could sneak in a trip to Edinburgh on my short escape, 2012 would have started off nicely I think – cold but pleasant.

I enjoyed a few great festivals in London as well, like Taste of London and the Wine and Cheese Festival. I miss events like those actually.

Lots of cooking as well - and now that I am back home, I am sure there will be much more.

I also made my debut as tv star, in the T-Mobile wedding ad, though you can only see the length of my dress and not much else. Still it was a fun experience. Met some great people during that experience.

But not as great as the people I met over the year in London, from classmates, some of whom will be lifelong friends, to the oddball adventures, public dating disasters and funny stories, to those who made the cut. Lol. These people brought fun, laughter, support and everythingness. A girl can only be this lucky once, right? Well, I am awesome, so I have it a hundred times over. My peeps are great!

We lost a friend this year but move forward with renewed hope because friendship is powerful and so is forgiveness.

Blog-wise, I have not always been consistent. When I was too busy with school to blog, I then became too busy with work. Balancing a real life with blogging is often challenging. Still, it is a fun outlet. I did my one and only anonymous vlog, as did Pablo. Did a photo challenge, but in the end, I blogged when I could.

So what will 2012 bring? God knows. I am praying for it to be a happy year – more happiness than sadness. Really hoping everyone, including myself, remains safe and healthy and happy over the 366 days of 2012. We can only ever take it one day at a time but I can still have a long term vision!

The lovely Grenadines, West Indies - right next door

While my movements will be restricted for a while, seeing that I have started a new job and thus have no real vacation time, I will have weekends, so there are places I can still go on a time crunch, including St Lucia, Grenada/Grenadines, Antigua, Miami (of course!), New York (not in the winter like last time) and who knows where else. 2013 will see me back in Europe but until then, gonna love my hemisphere as best as I can.

People wise – the year will undoubtedly end with some farse aunt or family friend asking if the husband will come in 2012 and my farse and bright response will probably be, “Find him and ask him”. I will again be forced to defend singledom and my right to life despite not being tied to some loser til death do us part. I have no idea what life will hold for me but guess what…life does not wait. I have learnt a lot about myself in the past year and reaffirmed what I already knew, and I will be having fun and being the fabulista that I have always been.

That being said, I want to wish you all a very Happy 2012. May all the things you wish for yourselves and your loved ones come to pass, and just have fun. Life is short and love is endless – love life.

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Flirting 1.0 in a 2.0 world

I have on occasion on this blog described the Trini courting methods - maybe not in great detail but I have, like I did here. In case you needed a reminder, one such encounter went like this -

Scene: Trininista walking down the streets of Port of Spain, during her lunch break, looking cute as always, albeit a little aggravated cause the Third World pavements are destroying my Manhattan bought shoes, and threatening to give me a sprained ankle. A man is walking in the opposite direction, towards the 'nista. He is leering in that Trini way. Smiling. His lips curve as he prepares to speak, no doubt about to utter some lame line about my figure or my complexion. I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses and ready my lips, tongue and teeth to release the loud sucking sound Trinis call a "steups".

Man: Baby, you look good. I wanna ride you like Seabiscuit.

Steups averted. It was so funny I made sure I was out of his sight before I laughed aloud. It is a line that I have placed as my #1 pickup line ever!

Fast-forward to the technology age. Now I have weird men offering to chat me up on Facebook, as I have complained on countless occasions on my wall, and to friends whose "thirsty" friends spot my cuteness on a comment or a "like" and feel it is a free-for-all on the friend requests. Now I also have random men stalking me even on Twitter. How do you stalk someone on Twitter? I am not sure but it must take a special (idle) type of person. In any event, a few weeks ago, on my other handle - my professional handle - a young man sent me a DM, not just chatting me up, but extending the cyber assault by offering his BBM pin.

BBM fever

Two problems with this, Mr Twitterati-Flex:

1. I love the sound of the human voice. I mean, what is it now with people and all these gadgets and texting and BBMing and malarkey? Does anyone even know how to make a phone call anymore? Call me old fashioned, but I love a good old phone call. A few months ago, a guy, who should have known better cause he knew me well enough by then, tried to plan a date with me via text and email. He did not hear from me and never once thought, maybe I should call. Nope. He was depending solely on this email which I could not, or would not access cause I was out. Sorry but I only access emails on my laptop. I spend enough time on this as it is. I am not going to sit online via my phone as well. So he waited and waited, getting no answer from me, and then sent me a text. "What's happening later? I sent an email". A phone call would have solved all his dating problems. I thought maybe this was an English thing but I know it is becoming a global communication phenomenon. It irks me.

As for Mr BBM, I mean, if he had asked me for my Skype, he may have had a chance (.0000001 of a chance), but my BBM pin? Really? Which brings me to point #2.

2. I do not currently own a Blackberry or any type of smartphone. I know this makes me a social and technological pariah, but I don't want to be one of those hamsters on the platform, with eyes glued to the screens of a phone. While I can access all things internet on my piece of crap Samsung, I don't. Trinis love the art of maccoing aka minding other people's business. Being in London, the city of the seemingly indifferent, has not changed that. I always on the lookout for something interesting from homosapiens. That's the fun part of life.

I feel like all these gadgets, while great on many levels, also retard socialisation and I must admit, I resent it.

Needless to say, the young man never got a response. I do not respond to Facebook, Twitter or BBM flirting. Fun fact for today. I cannot believe I am saying this, but I much prefer random men in the street and their Seabiscuit analogies. At least it is in 3D and live surround sound.

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Bedroom Do's and Don'ts

A hamster is a fancy rat, in case you did not know

It's been a crap day but not going to talk about that. I will tell you what made me laugh out loud at the end of my crap day while talking to my girl. When you think your job is crazy, there is always someone else with a weirder experience.

And as a single woman, still exploring the minefield that is dating, I have to encourage other single people to really not take anything for granted when looking for a love match. So, when next you think your love life and/or your sex life is dull and could use some passion, DO ask some serious questions about your date's sexual habits and decide whether they are relevant to your tastes.

Now while I am all about freedom of choice, in and out of the bedroom, there are certain limits I think. Talking to my friend, I was shocked to learn that some people are using animals as part of their bedroom trysts. Very few things shock me, but I am regularly disgusted by the habits of mankind. So what would you tell a guy who comes into your emergency room with a hamster up his ass? What do you say when after you ask the all important question - how did the hamster get there? - he says, it was part of our...ummm...bedroom activities?

And when I asked how on earth this hamster got into such a...tight space...and was told that the hamster was positioned face first near the "door" and then a fire lit at its back end, which ensured frantic burrowing to get up there...well, there were no words really. A fire! This is not what The Doors had in mind when they sang "Light My Fire".

What is the sexual attraction of sending a rat up one's back door? Can't a vibrator do the job?

DON'T engage innocent animals in your sex life. I am not a lover of rodents, but this is horrible! Both for the rodent and the human.
DON'T be cruel to animals for your sexual gratification. Seriously.

Additionally, DO use websites or local sex shops to acquire toys and other such paraphernalia to enhance your sexual experience.
DON'T use lightbulbs. Yes, another person came into the ER with lightbulb filaments up there. Who thinks this is normal? Again, "Light Up My Life" was a big hit, but this was not the original concept!

DON'T assume your date is normal. DO ask these questions and spare yourself the trauma!
DO contact your local PETA or RSPCA/TTSPCA/ASPCA if you encounter such psychos.
DO save the hamsters of the world.
DO spare yourself from animal borne diseases!
DO think long and hard about your sexual behaviour during the dating process! Celibacy may be an option.

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The Anti-Dating Spot: The Nightclub

Now that I have ended academic life, I am having a life. lol. Sorry for the lack of posts, but between mental and physical exhaustion, and socialising, I just was not in the mood for social media. Hope everyone is well though.

Anyway, I wrote a post about the so-called best places to pick up guys, according to one magazine. I don't think there are many people though who would argue with me that one of the worst places to go man-hunting is a nightclub, if not THE WORST. 

As an aside, I wondered if I am getting too old for nightclubs. Besides screwing up my face at near sexual acts on the dancefloor, like an old grandmother, the patrons are younger and younger. Don't these kids have parents? lol.

But I digress. In the past couple weeks, I have taken my lovely female self to two different clubs here in good ole London and the experience was generally the same - bad. Sure I had fun in a "I love to dance and release" kinda way, but do men really think their approach in nightclubs will work? Of course they do - cause they are drunk, stupid and overconfident (because of drinks and other substances).

Exhibit A - The half-Trini, as he called himself. Probably the most successful last weekend, cause he got a phone number. But it was not mine. He had his eye on my girlfriend. So why does he make my list? 

Dude, if you want to talk, dance, screw or whatever with my girlfriend, be my guest. However, dude was really spoiling my good time. I mean, we had an initial conversation when I realised he was a bonafide member of the flock (Trini) and we high-fived etc, but okay, you're not interested, I'm not interested and you are scoping out my friend. Great for you but don't come to ruin my good time with idle, slurred conversation when you really want to talk to my friend. Is this frickin' high school? Am I the intermediary? At a night club? Your "game" is ruining my night. Boy, please. Move along. He was - an-noy-ing.

Exhibit B - The Nigerian. You already know where this is going if you have been a loyal reader of my blog. No? Stellar encounters like this one. So I am in the club, and the deejay is putting down some wicked urban beats, and then to my amazement, dropped some Machel, and I am shaking what my mama and Haagen Dazs gave me, and this guy is looking at me. Not even close to my type - short, round head, looking like a bowling ball in a t-shirt. He raises his glass, I dunno, in appreciation, solidarity...whatever and I willed myself not to roll my eyes so instead I nod and avert my gaze back to my drink. Bad move. Worst move ever - don't do it ladies. Rule #1 - never acknowledge them, because in warp speed this dude was in front of me, grabbing my hand like it was his to grab, and trying to pull me on the dancefloor with him. Darling...no. I was like, wtf! 

After much pulling and tugging, I managed to rescue my hand from the vice-like grip and he then engages in more club conversation. Dudes, clubs are not for, as the hood rats would say, "conversating" (lol). I don't wanna talk to you - about your life, your career, your mama. I just wanna dance. If I find you attractive, I will dance with you. If I feel like you need a charity grind, I will dance with you. But I am not interested in screaming at the top of my lungs about my hopes and dreams for the future. Why do they do this?

Anyway, during this shouting match he tells me where he is from (no, made me guess, cause I was privileged enough to have a Nigerian wanting me...my luck) and wants my number. No chance in hell. What's even worse, if you want to be a Grade A nuisance, can you ensure you smell good at least? The guy stank. His 24 hour underarm protection clocked out after maybe 16 hrs, and after hunting high and low yesterday for my regular brand of mouthwash with no luck, I understand why his breath was also as sweet as a city dump. I had to get away. And I did.

I came back from my sweet escape to find him gone and I started shaking again. Within 5 minutes, he materialised like a la diablesse beside me again. And grabs my phone which I had in my hand. Grabs my so and so phone! This guy had his chance to escape without unleashing the brute force of my disgusting Trini mouth, but enough was enough. Needless to say, he spent the rest of the evening on the lower level of the dancefloor looking up at me, like a kicked dog, while I continued shaking my ass - alone.

Exhibit C - Last night. Do you think approaching a group of beautiful black women and going  "I like black girls" will really get you a date, buddy? I mean, he was a cute Scandinavian type and before he opened his mouth I thought, nice. But really?? He left with his love for black women still intact I am sure, cause my friends were not too harsh, but he left without a phone number or a dance.

Exhibit D - The dude who stepped on my foot by accident causing me to physically push him away. He was very apologetic but his brand of apology I could do without. "I am sorry" still works. I did not need the hand holding and the kiss. I don't know you, buddy. WTH!

These were the major highlights, but it is an important reminder to single women everywhere. 

If you are looking for sex - nightclub.

If you are looking for a practice ground to perfect your eyeroll, your fluency in profanity and your dissing mechanisms - nightclub. 

If you are looking for the man of your dreams, you might be better off with Cosmo's picks like the Apple Store and my personal "favourites" - the cocktail bar and the supermarket.

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No Awesome Week is Complete Without a Date Chase

Much better time this week!

It feels like I have not been here in quite a while. Well, that's how it goes when you try to have a life. lol. And when you're a student. And all sorts of other reasons. I don't live to blog. I love blogging but I also love not blogging.

Where last week was really awful - even inducing tears - this week was much better, thanks for asking.

Firstly, my supervisor FINALLY emailed me back with feedback on my dissertation, or to be more accurate, the draft I sent her. Needless to say, the "A" on my chest is flashing in neon lights, buddy. She was very impressed with what I sent her so far and the road to completion is now seemingly short. Of course, I am anal and a bit of a perfectionist so what another person may view as a major victory, and I do agree it is a major victory, I will find some way to make it a chore. lol. To make sure it is PERFECT!

Anyway, with the disso news, I felt a bit less pressured and stressed and took some down time. I love London but I always enjoy being out of London for a few days as well. I am a bit miffed I did not take my camera with me as I should really know better. I think it never occurred to me to take it cause when I left the house it was pouring down, cold, grey, blech and my expectations for the rest of the week were probably very low.

However, there were some beautiful weather moments and we took advantage. The English countryside is truly beautiful, when it's sunny, I hasten to add. I spent one lovely afternoon at Virginia Water. Beautiful lakeside park. Lots of dog walking, which usually means lots of me going "awww...doggie". Sorry, I stole these photos but just had to let you know what I experienced.

The Cascade at Virgina Water. Absolutely stunning
Photo Credit: The Royal Landscape - Virgina Water

The Five Arch Bridge at Virginia Water. It is a beautiful view actually. Gorgeous
Photo credit: The Royal Landscape - Virginia Water

Also there was some kitchen love. I always love cooking, but it's always better when it's not just for myself. I think I am an awesome cook so being able to share the love is always great. And having the kitchen love reciprocated is even better, so the apple and blackberry pie - very good, much appreciated, totally consumed. lol. And when it's a man doing the reciprocating in the kitchen, it is a big deal!

I must also take you back to this entry and share a funny story with you, dear readers. Go on, read this entry...I will wait.

Okay, so I always moan and groan about the men-bots in London. Basically, the men here are not very responsive to eye tag, cause well...they never look away from the screens of their smartphones, iPads or Kindles. It's a total waste of time trying to look cute cause noone cares!! Anyway, I was coming back from a lovely evening, complete with drinks at Claridge's (yes, had to drop that in cause I may never go there again) with a long lost friend, and walking through Victoria station, waiting for my train. Of course, I had pulled off student gear and was looking rather cute - and thankfully so, cause Claridge's was not the original plan!

Date chase - who woulda thunk it?

Suddenly (cue dramatic music), this guy runs up to me, breathless, yet eager (too eager??) and introduces himself. To say I was confused would be the understatement of the year. The expression on my face had to have been a combination of fear, shock, and confusion. Was this guy high? Was I about to be mugged, I asked myself, as I clutched my handbag tighter, very much aware that all I had in it was 5quid and lipgloss. But hey, I bought that bag in a very nice store in Manhattan. You don't mess with a girl and her swanky handbag!

Anyway...back to the train station dude.Yeah...chasing after me. What the hell? I have been in this country way too long cause the mere fact that a man, a Londoner no less, would even speak to a strange woman, much less, chase her down in a train station to talk to her, was mind boggling to me. In any event, after I asked him a few times whether he was sober and why he was chasing me, he said he saw me walking past, thought I was incredibly stunning, beautiful, gorgeous etc etc, and wanted to ask me out. As "luck" would have it, we were even going the same way and he followed me on to the train. Stalker or just enthusiastic? Well, you can rest assured, I am alive today as me typing this entry clearly indicates, so I would say "enthusiastic". We did have quite a nice chat on the train and the dude is quite normal, as far as I could tell. How did the story end? Wouldn't you like to know! lol.

Yes. The fun never stops here!

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When Dating Fun Becomes a Public Disaster

Take Me Out Game Show

So I went out with the girls on Sunday - dissertation break - and part of the evening was a customised version of the game show, Take Me Out. Now I had never heard of this thing, so when the young lady asked me whether I wanted to participate I politely declined. I have no desire to be a public sensation. 


I wiki'ed the concept for your benefit. 

One single man has to try to impress thirty single women. Each woman has a (white) light which she can turn off (red) if she is unimpressed by the man. His aim is to convince as many women as possible to keep their lights on so that he can then pick, from the women remaining, the one that he wishes to take on a date. If there is one woman left, the man and woman will go on a date. If no lights are left on - what is referred to as a "blackout" - then the man must leave the show without a date. - Wikipedia

In this case, there were about 7-8 single men, and the lights did not turn red when "switched off". They just switched off. They also selected women who had signed up - me, not included!!! Boy, did I dodge a bullet with this thing. Why?


1. The man candy was extremely stale. I mean, I am not sure where they found these princes but they were not happening. From the unemployed to the pants falling off the waist, to the babies (22 is not for me!!), I surely would not have wanted to date any of them. With that being said, I did not and could not understand the way they behaved later, cause any woman who dated them, was going to be doing them a favour, which leads me to point #2...


2. The embarrassment factor. The first young lady called up on stage - man, did I feel bad for this chick. I was not really paying attention to her "sales pitch" but I do recall she was American. Maybe she thought the accent would have won them over but she needed more than a Yankee accent, lemme tell ya. 


The look...the aesthetic did not win her any points with the guys I am sure. I mean, she was cute, and while her ensemble was not at all hurting my eyes, we must remember, men are shallow, visually stimulated beings. lol. The little house dress looking thing she was wearing with the ballet flats - a no go, especially if you sign yourself up for what is essentially a meat market, starring meatheaded men. And looking at the nimrods on stage, they were clearly looking for T&A. They wanted Nicki Minaj. Not Ma Kettle.

Nicki vs Ma - who would you choose?

Still, I did not expect the men to behave in the manner in which they did (or maybe I did) when the MC asked them to keep their lights on if they wanted to date her. 


Lights out. 


Crickets.


Let's just say, if the lights around their necks were the only light source in the room, we would have been in complete darkness, fumbling and groping strange people. And it was the no-hesitation, semi scramble, childish "not me, not me" antics to take their lights off, almost as if the last man standing would be sentenced to death that really got me. Poor. Add the "ooohs" and "damnnnnnn"s and laughter from the audience and I am sure this girl wanted to roll up in a ball, roll away and die. She did not die, at least not there, but she did roll away - taking her friend and hustling out of the room out of sheer embarassment no doubt. Lord, I feel shame for the chick.


Why would anyone put themselves through that though? I would not do it! Dating is hard enough! The private rejection is mind numbing, so why would you want to share that with the world, if even for "fun". I am sure she did not think it was fun in the end. 


As I said, the girl was cute and I am sure there is some guy out there who would love her and her house dress...umm...casual style. While I am confident in my hotness, I am not in any way fooling myself that I am THE ANSWER, and that all men will grovel at my feet. My hotness - it's not for everybody and being made a public spectacle is not my idea of a good Sunday night. I hope she has sufficiently recovered and learnt her lesson. Sit in your chair, drink your mojito and relax yourself.

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Why I'm a Great Catch

I was having a chat with a friend of the male variety last night, over some hummus (I love that I can just go to Tesco and buy any variety I want without having to make it myself), and he asked the million dollar question: Why are you single? Well, buddy, if I could give you an answer, I would have. I can probably say maybe it's my bad habit of rolling my eyes at men who try to impress me, or the fact that I don't tolerate nonsense, or the fact that I don't like bald or balding men which seems to be the norm here (snicker). But he did point out why I was a great catch, in his own funny "man" way.

The obvious - I'm cute. I won't go on too much about this for fear of being called vain. But I am.

Again, not going to expound but I am also smart and hella funny.

I love sports. I do. I love watching sports and going to watch sports. During the World Cup, if you are not a football fan, you are persona non grata in my life. Yes, I can appreciate the male form, but I also do appreciate the game. However, there has to be some balance as well. While I complain about my cousin watching football for hours on end, this is only because it interrupted productive student life. I also find something very pathetic about anyone who will sit for hours and hours and hours watching sports, or tv in general, when life is happening around them. It's the same way I feel about people married to their smartphones, Twitter etc. Go out...do something. But anyway, guys like a woman who not only loves sports but can appreciate THEIR love for sports. So when they are watching basketball or football, the woman understands why they don't want to snuggle at that exact moment. lol.

One of my many masterpieces

I'm a great cook. I love how he said this as he munched on store bought hummus. lol. There is immense truth in the saying, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I have spun my magic web around the fragile consciousness of male homosapiens just by twirling my pot spoon. I need to take greater advantage of this magic power.

I appreciate other people's space. I love having my "me" time and in the same vein, I appreciate the other person's space as well. I have seen too many girlfriends who do not give a guy a chance to breathe - always calling, nagging. My cousin had one of his typical boys' nights here and one of the girlfriends came over - uninvited. Why, honey? Don't you see there are only men here? What was even more annoying, somehow I was left to "babysit" this twit when all I wanted to do was watch my chick flick in the other room. By myself. Clinginess, on either side, is never cute.

To add to the above, I have my own interests and I am independent. Some men say they want an independent woman and then cannot deal with all that entails, but my friend pointed out that generally, the fact that I have my built a life and I am not obviously desperate to find a man is apparently attractive. My female relatives, in their sweet, old school way, would have me believe that marriage is the answer to all my problems. Getting a Master's degree and moving along in my chosen field, buying my own house, travelling - not so important to them. lol.

I am the anti-hoochie mama. Sure, I get upset and angry about stuff, but you will never see me doing a "Maury" in public or even in private. You know what a Maury is - a crazed woman who starts cussing, scratching, throwing things, having to be physically restrained from physically hurting the man. No. Or doing a Lifetime - the woman who starts crying and acting hysterical for no good reason. Yeah. That's not me. I stay pretty calm during disagreements. I think that is scarier - sitting and smiling at them, because then they go to bed with one eye open. lol. But seriously, I have crossed the threshold of teenaged behaviour. I believe there are definitely more grown-up ways of facing conflict. Yet I have seen women in my age bracket and older, who just simply act a fool, and then wonder, why the man vex!!!

All this however does not really help me at this point. But the hummus was amazing. I love hummus. Now, that's a great catch! The dude who can bring me hummus! lol.

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The "Me" Day That Wasn't

The official mascot for my blog - Pablo!

Firstly, special thanks to EVERYONE who visited me and commented on my blog on my SITS Day. I cannot tell you how overwhelmed I was by your kind words about my little old blog. I have been really trying to visit everyone who commented/followed but it is a work in progress.If you have not seen me on your blog yet, have no fear - I will get there. Eventually. But thank you! I feel very blessed.

The plan yesterday was to have a quiet day with myself. I woke up late, took a shower, had grilled cheese on an onion bagel with some sorrel, and then looked up the trains I would need to get to Leicester Square to meet this overwhelming craving I have been having for Haagen Dazs. I had already packed my book, which was a freebie cause I am being asked to review it and freeness is and always will be a huge plus in poor student world.

I certainly, based on what I have read so far, recommend it

However, in the middle of my bagel, I got a text and then somehow invited this guy on my ice cream run. So we met and I ordered my Chocolate Waffle with extra whipped cream, cause yes, Valerie, I am bad ass! lol.

I think I had an orgasm after the first bite. God, I am so easy! I did struggle to eat it all though. Got some help.

We talked, and laughed and then the sun came out (eerie).

The plan after that was to just go to Tesco, make my groceries, head home, have dinner and get back to my book. My cousin was going to be out and I would have the house to myself. That did not happen either. We ended walking through Covent Garden, I tortured myself by trying on jewellry I simply cannot afford but which looked ravishing on me nonetheless, and taking in the quirky sights and sounds of the market.

The plan was further decapitated when after said Tesco stop, somehow I found myself dressing for a party and heading out the door, never coming back in until 4.30am*. The book is sitting on the bed, laughing at me.

Am I complaining? Hardly. I had a good time. Dude had a good time and was a good sport cause it was  mostly Caribbean music (of course) and Caribbean people, and he was very at ease in the midst of the bacchanal. I can have my me time today. The house is empty again and the book is next to me. And I probably should not answer any text messages today.

*Of course, I had to face my greatest nightmare which is having to take the night bus. I think the world knows I HATE the night bus, but luckily I had company. Still, it did not make it any less revolting. The young woman 2 seats ahead of me - if you cannot hold your liquor honey, don't drink. She was a total mess and sick too. She proceeded to "light" up my life and the bus, when she threw up in a bag. She then placed said bag on her lap, at which point it started to leak...all over her hands, her dress...and the floor! Her friends then proceeded to double bag the mess, but not before spilling some more of her puke all over the floor. I almost had to do a long jump over the mess to get off the bus. I kept saying to myself - I miss my car...I miss my car...I miss my car. 

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Single and Fabulous?

Single and Fabulous? Is it possible to be both?
Hell yeah!

This evening, I was watching some simply prehistoric episodes of Sex and The City. This episode, "They Shoot Single People, Don't They?" was not only amusing but I am sure so many single people can relate. Carrie agrees to do a shoot for a cover story, and she has a late night and gets to the studio disheveled and ungroomed, but the photographer promises her she is just taking test shots.

Instead what ends up on the cover is a photo of a weary, frazzled looking, chain smoking train wreck, with the caption - Single and Fabulous??

I am not sure where the conspiracy began or who started it, but single people are not on the brink of destruction. Nor do we need rescuing or curing from this incurable disease known as singledom or spinsterhood as some may like to call it. There are many tired and lame stereotypes of single women especially that single women tend to be:

• Lonely
• Bitter
• Aimless
• Promiscuous
• Confused
• Incomplete

...and the list goes on.

I don't think single women need saving. I think sometimes society and some of the social norms push us into a corner and single women are somehow not supposed to be happy or feel fulfilled because they do not have a husband or a brood of kids. The lives we live, even if fulfilling to us personally, is never enough for the world in which we live. Careers and leisure and other pursuits somehow don't mean much to some. We have been brainwashed into believing that life does not really get going until you're hitched, but if your 30s come along and you're still not married - will you wait forever to start living? And while loneliness affects single women, guess what? Married women and women in relationships also feel lonely, even within the confines of marriage which is supposed to be a union of two souls. Loneliness is not limited to single people - or men or women. It strikes anyone at anytime and in any circumstances.

So why is it hard then for some to think that one can be single and fabulous? Maybe I am biased but I always thought being single was fabulous, having its own perks as does marriage and motherhood. There are pros and cons to every state of life. Husbands come in pretty handy when work life gets tough or you need a foot rub or a cinema buddy. Single women can wake up and jump on a plane and just go - no worries about babysitters, husbands etc.

It works both ways. So I denounce the question mark in the caption. Single and Fabulous?? Of course! Single and Fabulous!

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