My (Very) Sordid Confession

The lovely Carol-Anne from La Familia Aissa bestowed this award on me weeks ago. I am horrible with awards and I think at this point I should say, I am a nightmare with them. I have gotten this one twice before so I think I am all 7-thinged out. However, there is one random, albeit amusing fact I can blog about. Brace yourself, folks...this is a doozy.

I have been a contestant in a pageant.

Now, don't get too excited. It was not Miss Universe or anything like that. Not even Miss Trinidad and Tobago, though looking back, that surely would have been the best thing I could have done for my life, since clearly it makes one employable in Trinidad and Tobago. But I digress...

It was back in my undergrad life. Dorm life. It was one of those things you did cause you were desperate, not cause you thought you were hot. I was not hot during my undergrad years. I had not yet unleashed the hotness I carry with me today. I was still breaking out of self-consciousness. So how on earth did I enter a pageant? Well, to keep my space in the dorms. Hall (dorm) life in Jamaica (where I did my undergrad) is akin to being in a sorority or fraternity. There is no "free" room. You had to earn your place. Each hall was a power by itself of course, but also within each hall, there was sub-frats or sorors, and you had those bragging rights to win as well. So be it sports, or the arts, you had to be doing something.

Wendy Fitzwilliam
Miss T&T and Miss Universe 1998

I love sports but I cannot play a sport to save my life. I failed miserably during my short stint as a cricketer during high school. Our team was rubbish but we won "Best Dressed" - a sure sign of the future! lol. Track - I sucked. Field events - sucked. Volleyball, netball - sucked and sucked.

But, I can sing. It's a hidden talent but it's one I am proud of. So when I was scoping out ways to keep my room and avoid the hell of off-campus accomodation, this seemed to be the way to make a splash. A pageant which they marketed as more talent than beauty, but there were no ugly girls in the pageant and the guys were excited and placing bets, so yeah...it was a damn beauty pageant.

I mean, in the end it was fun and I can tick it off my bucket list but at the time, it was a nightmare. Nightly rehearsals of my song - "I Still Believe" by Mariah Carey, followed by the nightly dance rehearsal. Oh yes, we had an opening dance. And not some crappy "I'm too sexy in my heels" pageant dance either where you "skin teeth" and do a two-step and a twirl, but a proper, booty shaking dance. The nightmare! Oh you should have seen the outfits for said dance. Black leotard, black tights and a green grass skirt. I still watch the photos and laugh and sorry, I will NOT be sharing the shame with you. But we danced to this song and admittedly, the dance kinda looked like this:



Jamaica being a proud sporting nation, we did not have swimwear (thank you Jesus!!), but instead modelled sports wear, and this is where we did the obligatory...

Good night ladies and gentlemen. My name is Trininista and I am a 2nd year communications student from Trinidad and Tobago..blah blah blah.

...with the big smile and pushed out chest. lol


Our hall colours were the always awful and never flattering yellow and green, so all the sports options were in those colours, except the cricket option which ta-da, your girl sported on the night, complete with pads and cricket bat. LMAO. Typing this makes me laugh. I mean can you picture it? lol. I kinda looked something like this...only cuter.

T&T cricket legend and world record holder, Brian Lara

Then we had African wear and I opted for a less voluminous beige number with a headband, which again set me apart from the pack in bright, huge dresses. These again, like the sportswear, were donated. I think I looked pretty on like boiled corn in that dress as well. For real.


We then had the talent segment, where out of sheer terror, I sang 90% of the song with my eyes closed but hit every note and somehow managed not only raucous cheers and foot stomping from my hallmates who never knew I could bust a tune, but a standing ovation. The long nights croaking out those lyrics had paid off.


Then there was evening gown - and we did not have sponsored gowns this time. You had to dig up something yourself. I must admit, I looked pretty hot in my midnight blue strapless evening dress.

But the segment that killed my chances was the question and answer section. Now, I am not sure how they do it in other pageants, but in this one, they gave us the questions and we were to formulate our answers and memorise them, cause they assured us we would have to choose a question from a hat and answer it on stage and these were all the questions. Great, cause all the questions were about the university (crap like motto, history etc) or Jamaica, none of which I was a master. But guess who got the only rogue question for which I did not know the answer? lol. Total nightmare. I remember my answer being a complete disaster and walking off the stage, not feeling like an Honours student but a complete idiot and my chaperone trying to convince me, but I think more trying to convince herself, that we could still win. Yeah right. lol.

But in the end, it was good fun and I had a room for the next academic year and I can tell my daughter one day that her mother was an almost-beauty queen. Riiiiiiiiiiight. Thanks Carol for digging that one out of me. Hope it made up for the delay in posting the award.

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Dating and the Allure of the High Heeled Woman

Apparently for men, this is a huge NO-NO

A couple weeks ago, I posted an entry about a poor, young woman who was made the butt of jokes and embarassment at a public event. I commented that her aesthetic was probably not the best for the audience in question. The aesthetic being a frumpy dress and ballet shoes. While, as a woman, I have no problem with her mode of dress, the audience at hand comprised entirely of MEN. This led to comments about ballet shoes and the apparent unsexiness of them.

In re-reading salient parts of Steve Harvey's "Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man" tonight, I felt the need to share another man's perspective on the age-old question - Flats or Heels?

Men like the sex appeal of high heels

Heels, baby. Heels. If we could get athletic shoes with heels for women, we would. It’s just a really sexy thing to us. I don’t know a single man who prefers women in flats; I’ve never run into one. We all think heels make your legs more beautiful, they make your walk more feminine— and you, too. And that’s what we're attracted to.

A friend also commented that she was told, by a man, that any woman currently on the market for a man should never wear flats.

Who would have thought that the man hunt came down to footwear?

One reason for this phenomenon, according to the Daily Mail:


...high heels force the back to arch, pushing the bosom forward and the buttocks rearward, thus accentuating the female form.


They also elongate the legs and add height to the female form - a turn-on apparently.

Now, some may call this shallow but these are not my views. These are the views apparently of some men. Personally, I love flip flops and the comfort of them, as much as I love heels. Still, it is a rare day (and mostly a London day), that I would wear flats to a so-called "man-hunt" location, i.e. a club, wedding (lol), cocktail party etc. Wearing a sexy outfit and flats is not cute. However, wearing sexy heels and running for the train, tube and nigh tbus is not cute either.

Beauty over pain?

I started life in London, doing the hobble - i.e. wearing heels out, to look hot. But hobbling to the bus stop after a night standing in a club, and then hobbling across 3 streets to my house in these heels, with Mr Fox glaring at me from the shadows, is not fun. At all. So at my last club outing - flats! And I was a happier party goer. It also helped that I was not on the man-hunt as I was out with someone who really did not care. But men care and women seem to care that men care. And if now men are advocating that single women wear heels to attract a man, do you care? Should I care?

So my thing is this - I love heels. Ummm...have you seeeeeen the title of this blog. But I am also practical. I do not own a car here in London which makes heel-wearing a real problem. I have seen many women doing the hobble here in skyscraper heels. The look seems to be more important than comfort. Now adding the whole other dimension of attracting a man via heels - why does all this pressure have to be on the woman? What level of discomfort should we band together to now apply to men?? Speak!

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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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Heart is Back Home

Trinidad and Tobago under limited
state of emergency
Photo credit: Trinidad Guardian

After having a really awesome Sunday afternoon, complete with amusing surprises, it was a totally different and disturbing end which followed me as I lay my head down to sleep. Worries and concerns not only for my family back home, but for my country as a whole. The Prime Minister last night implemented a limited state of emergency in an effort to address the now completely out of control crime rate across the country.

[…] the current crime spree dictates that more must be done and stronger action has to be employed now. The situation cannot continue like this without a response commensurate with the wanton acts of violence and lawlessness; it must be a response as well that will halt the current spike in gang activity and crime in general in the shortest possible time. After much deliberation with the National Security Council and members of the Cabinet, it has been agreed that the government consider the imposition of a limited state of emergency in hot spots across the country […] The limited state of emergency will allow us to achieve a number of things in relation to crime reduction which would not be prudent for me to disclose in advance of the action taken. We are aware that such a decision will have an impact on the daily lives of innocent, law abiding citizens in these areas but I feel confident that they will recognise and appreciate the need to protect them and bring the current crime surge affecting them under control.

I have so many concerns around this, from not just the safety of my family, but the wider scenario encompassing the rights of innocent people and the anticipated effectiveness of such a drastic move. In the end, I am hoping and praying that my little country will find its way and one day be the totally awesome place I grew up in.

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When Every Day Feels Like Friday the 13th

Dog tired.

I try not to blog when I feel the way I have been feeling over the past week. It's just like a Debbie Downer. The week basically sucked. I'm not sure why...there was nothing in particular. No unmistakable crisis. I guess it was just a bit of everything. Amusingly enough, spending an entire week working with the youth of this nation really would depress anyone. lol.


So I had a bit of a PT job this week, working on campus - no biggie, just some cash inflow to stem the increasingly traumatic outflow. So, basically it was helping out with clearing. Clearing...a new thing for the non-British me. 

Clearing is a service available between July and September, but for most people it is used after the exam results are published in August. It can help people without a university or college place to find suitable vacancies on higher education courses. If you are flexible and you have reasonable exam results, there is still a good chance you will find another course through Clearing. - UCAS

This has to be one of the most depressing yet at the same time, entertaining jobs ever. First, I was forced to spend an entire week with undergrads - and not just undergrads, but annoying, mostly childish undergrads. Sweet Lord. My eyes rolled in their sockets too many times this week. I mean, I am on the phone, on a call, and this nimrod across from me is playing drums on the desk we share, while I am trying to listen to the poor woman on the line. I had to put her on hold 3 times to ask him to stop, and he looks at me like I am crazy, laughs and continues doing it. And then they wonder why noone will hire them when they graduate!

Then you have the actual clearing, and dealing with that. On the one hand, you have to be the one to tell kids that their grades suck so bad that there is nothing they can get into. You have to listen to their little sobs and their angst over being left behind while all their friends go off to university. Then there were the ones who declined offers at other schools, so they could go through clearing, hoping they could get in to a better course, and then there is no space, leaving them with no offers, no school and a good box about the ears from mum because next year they are going to have to face the tuition increases. When I applied for my degrees, there was nothing traumatic about it. I had choice. I'm a nerd. Getting the student loan was a chore, but I did not have these issues and my heart hurt for some of these kids. Honestly.

Wine needed!!

On the OTHER hand...there were also the ge(r)ms representing the future of England. Kids who had really crap grades and wanted to get on to LLB courses and other courses requiring upwards of 300 points. But it's not even the blind ambition. It was the attitude. No crying and pleading but just damn rude and bright! Example: 

Girl: Yeah...so what can I get for like 80 points? [NB. 80 points can't get you sh...]
Me: (still trying to be helpful, cause it was clearly early on in the process) Not sure if there is anything available but let me check. (check when I know there is nothing). I am so sorry, but we do not have anything available at the moment.

Girl: Wha? Check again.

Me: (annoyed, cause she was not crying or hurting, she was being a twat) I'm sorry. There is nothing available.
Girl: Yeah, you just hang on, yeah. Lemme talk to me mum. (puts me on hold, but I can hear the little witch, saying, "That bitch says there ain't nothin'. And I know she's black...that black bitch.". Then the mother chimes in, "she ain't probably wanna help you")

Me: I can still hear you.

Girl: Oh...ummm...so there's nothing? Can you try again? (suddenly pleasant and conciliatory)

Me: Sorry. Best of luck.

Crying purges the soul they say

She lucky I eh cuss way her ass!

Yes. It was a STELLAR week! Waking up early to go deal with this shit. Then having to suffer through the mind numbing and nasal assaulting bus ride every day. On Thursday night, with a combination of fatigue, the skull blasting headache, stress over my dissertation (supervisor has yet to give me feedback and time's a-going), the frickin' bitter and nasty weather, and then getting to the part of my book where the female lead gets killed (lol...the agony), I got home, had some bran flakes and yogurt for dinner, crawled into bed, and cried myself to sleep.

Today was not as awful as the rest of the week has been, in terms of how I felt. The sun was out, the phone calls were less annoying, I was reading a new book, the lunch was better (lol), still no disso feedback but that's another story, a 20 year old undergrad was hitting on me, despite my grouchiness, inevitably making me laugh, and I got a bottle of White Zin on my way home, had some hummus and let go of the last few days. I am exhausted, a bit frazzled but such is life. And I am getting paid. Well, not yet, but eventually. And, the weekend is here. I get to see a friend, and be a slouch for a couple days. I need it I think.

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