Have you ever had your parents tell you to be someones friend by force because they know their parents or are related in some way? Isn't that the very best way to make sure your eyes don't even jam the person? It's just cringe worthy!

So when I started boarding school, and my Mum told me to look out for two sisters who were related to me in my new school, I just rolled my eyes. First of all the oldest sister was in SS3 (evilllssssss) and the second sister, while my age was four years in front class wise (double noooo). During the year, the oldest sister smiled my way and checked in on me from time to time and I thought OK, she is cool. I had the feeling that if I was in deep doo doo she would step in but she just let me be which I was very grateful for. As for the second sister, I can honestly say a couple of years passed before I spoke to her properly, no mean feat considering that we were in the same dorm!

The more I spoke to her, the more I liked her. She had an easy charm of breeziness and smiles that made her more human than her 'senior' counterparts. My memory isn't helping here but I feel like one day it just seemed normal to always go and see her and hang and chat. In the weekends her corner would always be full. Why? She was telling a story.

It might be a book or a film she had seen during the holidays but there she would be recounting it scene for scene or chapter for chapter. Hands waving in the air, face alight with expression, sometimes we would even get different voices thrown in for effect. She was so good at this that twice later on when I watched two films I had never seen before, I had de ja vu because I could swear I knew the characters and scenes. It would only be later that I would realise that it was because she had told us about it at school. Her talents also went to writing and drawing. I still have birthday paintings that were perfectly created from quite dodgy secondary school paint sets (ahem).

We left school, went to uni and I count her as my sister and know for a fact that my adult life is so much better because she is in it. Even though she went on to forge a career as an Architect, one thing that never died was her love of storytelling, just that now she is writing her own stories. From full scalp exercise books, to word documents, we are now at the point where she is publishing her work and letting the outside world have look and what we have been enjoying since.

I'm very proud of her (even though we have beef because she doesn't give me enough romance lmao!!) because she is putting her dreams into action, unlike a lot of people, me included who just dream and don't have the courage to do something about it. So if you love finding new authors and you have a taste for something out of the ordinary, check out her blog and her book 'The Other Slipper' which is available on every e-reading platform out there and let her know what you think.

PS big kisses to the people who have been looking for me. I dey oh, more gist on the way from my trip to Nigeria.

The very thought of trying to chronicle my recent trip to Nigeria and my Grandma's funeral has me breaking out in a cold sweat and my nasty reaction to my malaria medication is not helping so I thought I would ease myself in back to blogging by sharing my recent epiphany.

I was on Twitter and Aribaba of fame tweeted something to the effect that he felt that he wasn't emotionally shook up enough to truly enjoy the power of Adele's 21 album and I replied that I had the same thought that week when I was listening to the album as well.

Then it hit me.........

I really wasn't burnt any more. Not by any of them! If you cast your eyes over the past four years of my blog there are a few names that totally cut me off at the knees emotionally but somewhere along the way I really just let it go! Trust me this is a big deal. Before it was a boost to hear their name and not want to hurl, but now I went through the names in my head and my head, heart or stomach did not lurch!

That is what brings me back to Adele's album. The woman is a an emotional genius. You would think that one of her eleven songs were solely talking about you. She doesn't hold anything back, not the anger, the sadness, the's all there! But as much as I love love love her, I listen to the songs with appreciation but not my requisite sack cloth and ashes. It is sooooo liberating.

Trust me I don't know when it happened. With ExH, he has changed so much I can't even see the man I fell in love with so moving on was no hardship. Then there is Baked Beans, now here I really feel someone should give me a gold star and an A+ grade. I went home to Nigeria and not once did I call or text him (yeah me!!!). My official stance will always be that we could have been fabulous but I no longer feel like he owes me anything. It's just an acceptance that none of these men were for me, even the one I never named but always called him the Prototype (to my perfect man) oh well, we will always have London!

I thank God shah, big girls like me don't need the extra baggage (hmm let me go weigh myself, emotional baggage must be about a couple of pounds at least!!). Maybe this is how I start my new decade. I don't know how and when it happened but I like it!!! Ladies and gentlemen I declare myself ex-free!

Kiss me.


Kiss me, I'm serious.

Where the hell did that come from?

Well, it's all I've been thinking about. Some of my mind was focused on planning the party, but the rest has been focused on your lips. Lord, who knew drinking Ribena could be erotic? You might have single handedly messed up my childhood memories of that drink.

Whoooosh! you're nuts.

..and you're blushing. I bet you hate your skin tone during moments like this. Just come closer and kiss me, one little kiss. I won't bite. I want to taste you, the Ribena and that new pink lipgloss thingy you've started using of late.

You noticed my lipgloss??!!!

Yup, I've noticed your lip gloss, and how you keep your portions of sweets for your brother..well apart from the truffles. I've noticed how you wear small earrings on the days you work out and I've noticed how you use a mixture of charm and cunning to keep our project under budget. I've noticed too many things when it comes to you. Now stop changing the subject and come here and kiss me.

I'm not moving.

Why? I thought, that maybe.....well I thought there was something..? I'm sorry. You must think I'm a right prat.

Yes, yes, yes. There is something but I think it's safer for me to have the table between us.


Well, if we start kissing I might not ever want to stop.

Oh. Ohhhhh. That's a risk I'm willing to take.

It's a miracle!

I'm writing a post. Quick no one breathe before something happens and I'm forced to step away from my computer. (PS Yes I know this is not what I promised but it's a bank holiday and I'm dropping two posts today!! Yes boss!!!)

I keep stopping to dance, right now it's Naeto C's 10/10. Love that song and he isn't bad on the eyes ;)

OK, back to the story. Well this wonderful weekend didn't start well. Friday morning had my monthly mortal enemy arrive with a vengeance and unlike recent months, my normal double dose of ibuprofen just wasn't cutting it. I also had enrolment where we leave our normal offices and help out fee assessing our new students and I'm there trying to fill out paperwork in front of new students and looking like I'm dying slowly. In the end my colleague had to put me in a taxi because it was raining terribly and I couldn't handle London Underground if my life depended on it.

I was spending the weekend with my cousins. We were having a hen weekend for the oldest sister and she lived in America so I don't get to see her often. I think listening to the funny story of how she met her hubby to be and the hot water bottle they got for me helped me ease up on the nausea and general feeling of wretchedness.

Friday night = dinner at a very poshhhh restaurant in Camden in the VIP section (chai I love sampling the good life) with flawless food from dim sum to a Thai chicken curry that would make the chicken proud to have ended up in such a product in its afterlife. We then went dancing upstairs where the bride to be, complete in her sash and tiara convinced people that she was getting married the very next day and she got lots of hugs from strangers and even got the DJ to change his set list LMAO!!!

We left in the early hours and I'm glad I got to dance it off but I really still had that hippo feeling, like a bloated cow but what I loved was the stories and laughter floating over my head and every given moment. Saturday morning saw us waking up slowly (read recovering) while the youngest started cooking for later that evening, we got ready and in the afternoon we all trooped to a very swanky hotel for afternoon tea, done the very English way. That includes, pots of tea of your choice, sandwiches (very cute and dinky), a waistline blasting selection of cakes and then...fresh baked scones with Cornish clotted cream and jam. Chai!! I should use this opportunity to report myself. I didn't know it was all a big surprise for the bride and I let it slip beforehand asking in my loud Caramel voice "the hotel where we are going for afternoon tea is it POSH??!! What's the dress code???" You can rest assured I got sent to the naughty corner.

Dancing time. Right now it's M.I and Flavour's Number 1. I love this song!!!!!!

OK, back to the story. Highlight of tea time, was having everyone go around the table saying three things about themselves that we don't know, and us trying to crash a Nigerian wedding that was going on in one of the ballrooms. My goodness I think there were four weddings going on. I spotted two Nigerian ones, one English and a small Indian wedding. On our way out, we walked into Man City players getting off their coach and I swear a few players looked a bit put out that we just walked past them, something like how can a group of young women pass us like that?! Hahahaha. I thought I was the only one who noticed but others picked up on it! Abeg guys! chill jo, it's not like that. You are still human. Man City for that matter! Mscheeewwww.

When we got to back to the flat, party games started!!! Who would think that rolls of toilet tissue, sellotape, ten minutes on the clock and a wedding dress challenge could bring out Project Runway type behaviour from all of us hehehehe! We also had a likes/dislikes quiz (to my future children, your aunties have weird taste in men), and a game of charades that still baffle my powers of description!!

The night ended with a heady mix of very potent cocktails mixed by the maid of honour, serious dancing and gifts which included edible undergarments (ahem)! Shout out to the bride's sisters for serious organising flair. We all had a fabulous time!

Other awwww/happy moments from the weekend
  • The maid of honour is in the middle of a very possible romance. No one knows the future but it was good for this cynic to meet a guy who knows what and who he wants and is willing to put actions to his words. (AWWWW).
  • I haven't mentioned it here but my Dad has been having beef with his two sisters who unwisely dealt with their guilt of not being there for their Mum before she died by carrying on with a whole load of stupidity that I wouldn't expect from people older than me, but I'm happy to report that with the help of a priest, they have a truce and I pray my Grandma's funeral goes off without any drama.
  • BEST NEWS OF ALL!!! I HAVE A NEW GODSON!!! Delivered safely yesterday evening!! I really hope my family don't read my blog because never have I been so excited about a new baby in my life!!! Talk about favouritism!! I can't wait to meet him!!! Countdown for two months till I meet him starts now. Oh my goodness he will get his own memory card because I will not be able to stop taking pictures :) Mum and baby are doing fine. I'm just waiting for his Dad to give us a name. Could this be our first Blogger Baby?
  • PS Read all about my new Godson here :) Part 2 is here:


I realised that I have missed my four year anniversary post. Should have been last week, it was only when I called into Vera's radio show and was arguing with Foxy P about anonymous bloggers that I realised that my four year baiday don reach. I didn't know what to put up in celebration. Briefly considered a pole dancing video but decided to wait for year five for that LMAO!!! So I'm going to do a picture post with all the stuff I've been getting up to with regards to my 30b430 list.

Before that post, I decided to drop a few lines here and wave hello to you all while I gather all my photos. So this is just an interim post holding the blog together like jam and butter :)

Hope you all are doing well. It's hot hot hot in London and I want to take off my leggings in the office but I might get into trouble so still figuring that out.

My Dad went back home to Naija and I can breathe again for a couple of months before he comes back to finish his treatment (phewwwww).

Serious planning is on for my birthday house party! I've made a food and drinks list and got a professional photographer, just need to sort out my DJ (my poor neighbours). I did my guest list and there are toooooooo many women. All fabulous gorgeous women of course, but not enough guys. I don't need them to hookup with anyone or anything, I just need them to be there, visible and mingling. Hmph! In the great immortal words of our generation;

"Where the men at?"

Hahahahahahaha !!!
For the first time in years I didn't go to Church today and I'm not sick.

I woke up to find a rare occurrence of my Dad going out for the day and my Mum at work till 8pm this night and the house was suddenly quiet. No one calling on me for this, that or the other and the other and suddenly my body just crumpled. I sort of have a hazy memory of my Dad saying something about putting his underwear in the washing machine but that just seemed like a dream. Next thing I know, it's 11.30am and my last local Mass is 12pm. Well, I just decided to go to the church a quick bus ride away for the 6.30pm mass later in the day and just about dragged my body to wash and spread said laundry.

Then I think I slept again, tweeted , cleaned the bathroom and had cereal. But it was all very surreal, I couldn't face the thought of seeing people, having to interact with the public, having to even brush my hair. It was just like I was shutting down very slowly. I had run out of pep.

I did manage to haul myself five minutes down the road to the salon to get my face done (wax off those pesky hairs that threaten my already frayed self esteem) but the beautician wasn't in! That will teach me!!

What makes it so awkward is that my Dad came home early, so at the old age of 29 I lied that I had been to another Church down the road (I'll let you all know what happens if/when he figures that one out) and I resented having to lie. Something along the lines of "I can make choices without having to justify myself..." went through my brain.

But I'm still not fussed. My brain is still switched off on some weird level and I refuse to engage, because if I do, all I will hear may be my voice silently screaming.

But those few hours where it was me and the quiet house was absolute bliss. I didn't have to put on a Caramel performance and smile and say funny things and be 'me'. It was just one woman and her bed and I loved it.

It has been a month now since my Grandma died. She was my Dad's Mum and was 99. She had outlived five of her eight children and her husband. I am grateful for her life and I know she was really bad in the end, it's actually by the grace of God that my Mum was around when my Grandma passed away if not it would have been just our new housekeeper and that would have been so sad especially as her two daughters leave a bit to be required and my Dad was here waiting for the all clear from his doctor.

I know she wasn't born an automatic Grandma, and I sometimes wonder about the young girl who married a senior clerk in the First Republic and then watched him become a king and increase their small home to 20 more wives and over 50 children. I have heard stories of her ruling the household with a strong hand, but late at night, I wonder how she felt when she saw the mammoth tasks waiting for her the next day, the squabbles, the drama and all that? I wonder how it felt to lose five children from infancy to their 40s? I know her religion was her greatest comfort and trust me no one did Church like her!

The most powerful memories I will carry with me are from my holidays in my home town during boarding school and the quick trips I would make during NYSC. When I was a teenager from about 12 onwards, My Grandma got seriously boot camp on me! I recall a time she locked away the gas cylinder so I would properly learn how to cook with firewood and the waking me up at 5am for daily morning mass. Nothing though, absolutely nothing, says 'Grandma' to two generations of children who lived in the Palace at sometime or the other than her ringing her bell, every night, come rain or shine for rosary and woe betide you if you were in the compound and dodged. Once during holidays, she figured out that I had started visiting my cousins 15 minutes before rosary time, so she got me to start ringing the bell for her! Classic!

She had razor sharp wit and very dry humour and it took a while for it to show but when it did, you would realise how mischievous she could be. She always fussed over me but in the background, never making a big deal out of anything. Just making sure things got done like helping me prepare for a new school term or keeping extra head scarves for me for Church as I always forgot to bring mine.

These days I get a little tug inside when I pass all her favourite things that My Mum and I would buy for her like her Vitamin E cream, malted biscuits, musical cards and the obligatory matching bag and flat shoes for morning mass. These are just little everyday reminders that whisper of memories of a great woman, who had seen such joy and pain in equal measure but had lived her life, always serving her family and her God.

I had to include one of her favourite prayers, the last she promised to teach me in Igbo, but never did.

Rest in Peace Mama, stay forever blessed.

The Magnificat
My soul glorifies the Lord, *
my spirit rejoices in God, my Saviour.
He looks on his servant in her lowliness; *
henceforth all ages will call me blessed.
The Almighty works marvels for me. *
Holy his name!
His mercy is from age to age, *
on those who fear him.
He puts forth his arm in strength *
and scatters the proud-hearted.
He casts the mighty from their thrones *
and raises the lowly.
He fills the starving with good things, *
sends the rich away empty.
He protects Israel, his servant, *
remembering his mercy,
the mercy promised to our fathers, *
to Abraham and his sons for ever.
I'm just going to sit here and type one sentence. Just one sentence!!! OK more than one. I need to break the writing curse that has plagued me. All because of no time! None what so ever. I don't even have kids so what is going on? I can't take it! So I am officially clearing the cobwebs from here!!!

PS I have sooooooo much to say. I could stay shackled to my computer for ever.

See you tomorrow.
I'm just going to say this real quick so forgive me if I make mistakes. What I am about to go on about happened a while back but a girl I know is going through something similar right now and it annoyed me all over again so I know it is still irratating me.

In any kind of relationship don't just disappear into the air. Whether it is deep relationship, friendship, sex buddy. Whatever!! Don't just stop calling, emailing or texting or whatever the hell form of communication you were using to talk to someone! That is just not on! That is rude and hurtful! If you ever feel like doing it, come back to this post and hear me shouting in a loud voice!


If things are getting too much for you, if you have problems pulling you away, if you don't want to talk to that person again, you can say "Look it's all a bit much at the moment, I need to stop things etc etc." No matter how the person may not like it, it will be better than dead air, you ignoring their calls or not replying their emails. The person will now be wondering "Errrrr what happened/ what did I do?"

A friend did this to me. First I thought he was sick or something and called twice. Two times he replied with, "I promise to call you back and explain." Nothing. Then I sent a message on FB. Again dead air. Yet at the same time, I could see him chatting with other people on his page! Haba! See stress! I was baffled, then hurt, then very angry! After more air, I deleted him off FB. I couldn't comprehend what I had done to warrant such behaviour and from someone I thought was important.

Last story. I fell for this guy big time. He was my prototype, the idea of what my perfect guy could be. It wasn't him though and we both knew that. Yet when he decided to cool things down, how he did it was to bring to a sharp halt the calls and emails and chats and then move to random phrases under my FB pictures like some old school friend from primary school! Dude please! After cavier you are downgrading me to chips? I don't think so! I am not your hi/hello friend. In my humble opinion, I would have preferred a phone call explaining your thought processes. No one here is a child. I think we all deserve some kind of heads up!

I can say this with full authority because I have been on both sides. I had to tell a guy that I didn't feel the way he did, and I was dreading it! I felt sick to my stomach because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. It would have been very easy to just ignore his calls and emails and give him dead air but I called and we had a long (and excrutiating) phone call. He can never say he doesn't know how things stand, that way you don't have to spend time scratching your head.


This rant does not apply to stalker/pyscho types who you have had a conversation with and they are now staking out the dumpster outside your flat looking through your trash. No! This is for normal sane folks.

If you have any thoughts please share them with me, I would love to hear what you think!

OK rant over.
*Warning!! The first part of the post is not to be read while eating**


So they did a scan last week and found two areas of pus in his abdomen. So from what I can gather, because they sent him home one day after the surgery, all the liquid from the operation hadn't drained properly. it now got infected and turned into the awful substance that looked like a mixture of boils, vomit and Irish Cream. It was not cool! So this crap had been in his body for three weeks and that was what was making him so ill. The moment they inserted a drain and the crap started coming out, his fever immediately vanished. This is all new knowledge for me but I have learnt oh. Post operative complications are so varied.

He is feeling so much better and starting to eat. He has lost so much weight though and that was worrying. We go to the hospital with food flasks full of different meals to get him to eat. It is important and I am happy to do it but hear me when I say, I could do with never seeing that hospital again in my life!

Hopefully he should be home soon to finish recuperating and driving us up the wall. Thanks be to God.


OK confess, were you guys all very excited about my date? LMAO!! What a sad reflection on my social life. I should have put up a disclaimer. This wasn't a date we could get excited about. You know, one of those ones that open up a door of maybes. This was a 'satisfy my curiosity' date on both our parts.

He met me after work on Wednesday and I was very grumpy :) I wasn't expecting to see him that day, as that was the day he came in. I was dressed in what I call M&S Mumsy Chic (smart but not sexy) and I was wrecked and full on grumpy mode. We had dinner near my office and I was glad I had waited. Let me say now straight off, very hot! Over 6 ft tall and broad shoulders with some muscles. I felt small and I love that. Hmmm yummy!

The chemistry was there that night and also on Saturday when we hung out, there is no denying that. You would have to be blind to deny it and I can see! The thing is, he was playing the mysterious card. Honestly it was like seeing a good book on the shelf all glossy and fabulous. You have read the blurb on the back and you want to read more but the book is tightly bound with cellophane wrap so tight that you need a nuclear device to rip it open.

Most of the time the conversation would flow, then he would slip into mystery speak and I'm trying to puzzle him out. Like all humans when I slot the experience into my memory banks, the charm, the politeness, the humour will be over shadowed by the headache inducing 'phantom moves'.

The good thing is that while with him, I wasn't thinking too much about hospitals and work. I could just be a a young woman, enjoying someone's company.

So I promise to give you a guys a signal when I go on a date we can get excited about, but this was just a quick day trip out of my less than sunny reality x

PS If God could whip me up another guy that looks like he did I won't say no ;)

It never stops ringing. Honestly. From seven in the morning till midnight. If I could I would change the answering message to:

"For the 99% of callers calling for Prince Paternal Unit, sorry he isn't in at the moment. He is currently in hospital receiving blood transfusions and IV antibiotics as his infection levels are 300 points higher than normal. Please call his hospital number on 1234 5678 if you want to speak to him. For the remaining 2% asking after his wife and daughter, his wife is busy and tired and rapidly losing an alarming amount of weight. His daughter wishes she could lose weight but is instead has taken to being ill herself through exhaustion, fainting at work (like an idiot) and failing her driving theory test as she didn't read for it. Thank you and God bless."

You see that way I wouldn't repeat myself over and over again. It is nice I guess, because it shows how imporatant he is to people in three continents. I guess no one wants to be one of those people who fall ill and die and no one notices till your deliveries start piling up outside your door or your cats eat you but still!!! The phone needs to stop ringing.

I'm just happy they have re-admitted him. If my Mum wasn't stubborn, they would keep fobbing us off and saying take this and take that and he will soon be better. Huh! Not true. Two weeks after the operation and he was still so ill. Let's see what the consultants say today.

In other news, the inspection is over in my College and we did very well, so I guess the 12 hr works days were worth it. I can't do it again though. I've got three years before the next inspection to move. It was NUTS!!!!

My theory test was another story. I read in one night, got there the next morning to find out that I am meant to bring the paper portion of my provisional license as well. My test was for 9.30 am and it was 9.25. The lady told me she sould give me till 10.45 to run home (thirty minutes away) and get the paper and come back.


I ran back to the train station and called my friend who was in her pjs having a chilled Saturday morning. She jumped in the shower and met me back at my house and we drove back to the centre at 10.40am! I was a minature wreck. I then proceeded to fail by two points. I no fit talk. I'm not even pissed, just weary. I want to thank my sister in arms though for letting me yank her from her sofa and watching the Good Wife.

Finally, a very hot date is meant to be on the cards for this week, and by now you know I would have my 'A' game on. You know, you know now! Is it not me again, a woman has her pride! But my weekend was in the hopsital, so no hair, nails, new outfits runs. I also feel like a WHALE thanks to MEGA OUTFIT DISTORTING BLOATING because of my stupid period. The damn thing was a week late, which happens when I'm ill. So I'm kind of flat. God dey shah.

I wonder how many dates have been in jogging bottoms on a sofa watching Grey's Anatomy? Hmmmm.
Dear God,

Thank you.

Thank you very very very much. You got my Dad through a nasty six hour surgery and into recovery. For that I am grateful as I know many people lose their lives on the operating table.

If you wouldn't mind, so as not to spoil your good work, please make my Dad behave. It would be a shame if he survived the operating table only to have his devoted wife of 30 years kill him.

I have never seen such in my life.

If you can't make him behave for the sake of your lovely handiwork, then make him behave on my behalf. I am working 12 hour days and the last thing I need when I drag my battered and weary body home is to walk into a war zone.

I do not want to be on Crimewatch or have my home turned into a crime scene. Fingerprint powder is very hard to clean.

I know you are very busy but thank you for listening.


  • My own name, over and over again in the space of thirty minutes.
  • "Aunty or Uncle have come to visit and they have brought fruit"
  • I want my water slightly heated but not hot"
  • "It's too hot"
  • "Reduce it"
  • "Pick it up"
  • "I don't want it anymore"
Because God knows I expose myself here on a monthly basis and have been doing so for nearly four years. What's left ? hahahahaha!

Thank you to BSNC for giving me the Versatile and Stylish Blogger award. I feel very stylish as I sit here and type! I have sooooo much tori that I will put up this post seperately and come back over the weekend for the rest of the gossip. OK here goes (I had to rack my brain a bit for this ):

1. When I am in a rush, my right hand types quicker that my left, which means that my words may be jumbled up like this: Hwere is Caramle Deligth ?

2. I have a serious pet peev with people who crack their bubble gum and make it pop and explode with their teeth. I just think it sounds awful. The sound to me sounds like someone is scratching a blackboard. Urghhh!

3. I am a very sensual person, I love hugging, touching etc. Since we are confessing, there is a freak in there as well. The fact that I'm very particular over who gets to see that side of me, doesn't mean I'm a prude (which some burnt men have mentioned hahaha).

4. On that note, number four is that I have a cool trick of putting my leg over my head :)

5. I can't sleep properly when travelling. Even on 14 hour flights, it is just not happening. So I really value multiple channels with all the on demand movies, shows and radio shows.

6. I do entire dance routines from movies and videos in my kitchen and dining room when I'm doing chores. I even use props like chairs. I though I would have overgrown it by now but nope! My friend was once in a bad mood so to cheer her up (and to her shame and horror) I did Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' on a train platform in London with people watching :)

7. Dirty kitchens and bathrooms freak me out. Seriously. No joke. Grime around the bath, or dried toothpaste around taps or darkened toilet bowls oh no no no no. Let the rest of your house go to blazes but where you prepare your body and your food? Ah please oh!

OK that was my dry list. Have a lovely and relaxed weekend xxx
PS More yarns on the way.
PPS I have a small girl crush on BSNC.
So today at work I am dressed in black tousers, a black vest and and a cream and brown cardigan that doesn't close. I have been up and down the office, talking to everyone in my office and some colleagues in my building.

Around midday I had a meeting with my line manager and the first thing she said is "I can see your leopard print bra"!!!

Chai Jesus!

For three hours I had been walking around with my top completely see through and my bra nice and visible!

The shame!

My top is normally not see through at all. My only explanation is that while on my period my normally big chest goes even bigger and it must have stretched my top more than usual.

See what women suffer!!

PS I have finally booked my theory test. All prayers for success happily welcome.
Ermmmmmm my blog is meant to be a coping mechanism for my life. But my life is now running at a speed that seems to not allow me have time for my blog! Well that's just ridiculous! I refuse to stop writing. Where else will I mutter and rant about all the bizarre things that happen in the never ending drama called life?

So I'm in my office and I'm in early. I could start on one of the never ending news stories I have to write, or start my award submission or call our student ambassadors for help in our events, but no. I'm going to write instead and damn everything else for the next ten minutes.

Well where to start?

Well I don't like my job that much anymore. It breaks my heart to say this but it's true. I also not loving having my pay frozen for the next two years. I can't help run my house on this income so I will have to start looking for a new job around summer.

Oooooooh I'm going to Miami!!! I'm going to Miami !!!!!!!! I'm going to Miami!!!! This will be first non-family related trip to America and I can't wait. It will also be a perfect opportunity to work through my 30b430 list. I haven't forgotten it you know! In fact I shall be crashing a party this weekend if everything goes to plan (that is number 14).

My Dad is back in London for a barrage of more tests and Mum in still in Nigeria for another two weeks, which means me in the kitchen (more so that usual) scratching my head for meal ideas to keep my Dad happy till my Mum gets back (long tings!!!!).

Britain is still full of doom and gloom and everyone hates David Cameron and thinks Nick Clegg is the greatest betrayer since Judas Iscariot.

My work load has tripled and I'm working longer hours which makes not want to exercise anymore. The result is a bigger Caramel and it's not funny at allllllll. My gym membership is going by the wayside so I'm going to cancel it and go to local community classes in kickboxing and Zumba.

Here's a little thing I heard yesterday and want to share: "Fear knocked at the door, faith answered and no one was there."

OK time is up! Back to the salt mines. Shout out to all my favourite bloggers whose blogs I miss reading :(
So.......on the whole, for me, even with some rays of light, 2010 was shit.

From January 3rd when a classmate died to a few days ago when my 16 year old relative passed on too, I felt that the year just wouldn't let up. I also got quite resentful with all that I catalogued in my head as never ending drama, seven deaths, house wahala, Mum's operation, my tussle with pneumonia and fighting unemployment. When we got a cancer diagnosis for a loved one I thought that was the end of me.

I did try very hard but naaaa, it just wasn't gelling (especially over Christmas aarrgghhhh). The funny thing now though is that as we enter 2011, there is that little point of grudging determined optimism. If you don't have hope that things will be better then what kind of life do you hope to live?

So no matter what I have hope for 2011. No the rah rah cheerleader over hyped excitement I had at the beginning of last year, but a quiet focus that I have to get a few basic things right for me. Yes, I said me. Not anyone else. I keep helping people live their own lives I forget to sort mine out. Well that has to stop for now. (I still wish everyone peace and love shah but don't call me LOL).

I hope I'm making sense.

I give this year over to God, totally and completely.