The Mug

My Mug bought by Mavis Bean was a cherished loom used only by me. 

It was the product of an in joke me and Mavis have. I love donuts ...i really do and Mavis has recognised this and chooses to use it against me when we argue and to comfort me when I'm down...and this little ditty (right) came with love, and a coaster!

Alas there should have been a few Krispy Kreme's should have been thrown in for good measure but i digress.

My point is that I only brought the mug out with the intention that only i would use it. Of late I have realised that it's not just me who's fond of the donut mug.

I have noticed it by the sink, unwashed, stained or half full with milky contents on numerous occasions. The lipstick stains has often narrowed it down to two     suspects. This morning I narrowed  that down to 1!    

My mother. Her explanation when I interrogated her for the continuous abuse of taking something that isnt hers ...well a dirty look and ''I like it because its light...'' WHAT??

I spy with my little eye something beginning with Awkward.

I went to see Shrek yesterday. 

Read my Review. 

But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to rant about what happened when waiting to see the film. 

Me and my brother were waiting to head in to the screening room at the IMAX. Spirits were high. England were positive they were going to beat Germany in the World Cup ... a theory what we know now is void -I digress

So there we are waiting in the queue . Not five seconds prior had i just had a heated conversation with my brother (the kind you have when you don't want the strangers around you to see you arguing with your family because  it's embarrassing) about why he should fork out the money for a large box of mixed flavoured popcorn. To which he protested furiously and claimed that I couldnt uses the reasons for me buying his ticket for the film as leverage - because I had voluntarily bought the ticket for him becase i wanted to see the film ..more than he did. 
 Then he asked for a sip of my bottled water. I said no...if he wasnt so tight with money he could buy himself his own bottled water and perhaps a large box of mixed flavoured popcorn while he was at it. We didnt speak for the preceding seconds.
I decided to be the bigger person and turn away from the fight. Damned if I was going to be the token black girl making the racket as was expected. No not me sorry bro but...

wait... I snapped back round to face him. He looked at me with his usual look of disdain and beffudlement to have me as his sister. 
"what?" my brother hissed, still annoyed that I refused to share my cool crystal clear Evian.
"See that woman behind me...the one in the blue dress, with the red bag and 3 other tall blonde men and woman next to her..."

My brother (younger but taller) looks over my head, focuses on the target, then slowly looks back at me. He shrugs "mmm hmm....what?"
"That. Is. Helen."
"Who?"
"That is Helen - a lady I used to work with and she's here with her fiance who's name i don't know and her firends who i also do not know."
My brother's eyes glaze over, he's been here before and he doesnt want to be part of it again. 
But i need help, this is a tricky predicament and siblings are meant to fight together...to the death. 
"I need you to help me."
"Oh no - no Alex no." he keeps repeating. He tries to turn away, but he can't because the crowd have multiplied and if he moves now, he looses his place in the queue - which doesn't make any sense because we all have allocated seating!

Helen is absolutely lovely, I tell my brother, and in a work environment I enjoy speaking to her. But I don't know her know her, and outside of the offices, when you're waiting to see Shrek - not to mention that the conversation will most definitley run thin and then it will get awkward, and you have no popcorn to munch on and keep you calm...well I panicked. 
I saw her and I panicked. 
"Go say Hello" my stupid logical brother offers.
I hiss at him..."I can't go up to her and just say Hello and walk away'' 
Rule of law states i spend a few minutes 'chatting and making polite conversation - which I admittedly can not do, and refuse to.


"Please - look, this is what we'll do. You can be my eyes ok..." I plead. 
"go and get us popcorn"
"NO SHE'LL SEE ME" I rage - why does he wind me up so?
"She'll hear you before she see's you with that mouth of yours"
Oh Snap - before i can berate him (even though i'm secretly proud he is so quick on the mark) he looks beyond me and his eyes widen, then he smiles nervously.


"what, what is it...she's behind me isnt she?'' and she's heard every word...
"No, but she did look our way...and well"
Oh no, she's seen me and she's coming over. I have to prepare to act suprised.
I wait for it...my brother momentarily becomes distracted by the popcorn stand.
"What are you doing...where is she now...i need movements, you're my eyes remember. Do i turn around now?"
"No, she's not looking over anymore."
"eh?"
My brother huffs in his '17 year-old bored of it all' way. "I think she thought she saw you, i dunno"
"Well did she or didnt she see me? either she didnt (so very Helen) and didnt even think twice about it, or she did and she...I gasp
"What now?" brother bear asks
"What if she saw me, and didnt WANT to come over!"
"Well then your safe innit"
Safe? poor clueless brother. Little does he know that what's actually happened is that I have been the victim of  avoidence. "She saw me, and chose not to come over because she doesnt want to speak to me!" cheek of it. 
"Well i guess you can stop acting all weird and just go get some popcorn now"
"I can't let her see me!"
I can see from the look in his pretty girl eyes that he doesn't understand...or care.
The fact is, Helen and I have both been playing a big game of pretend not to see the work colleague out of work. I started it, and with my back already to her, I'm trapped. 
If i turn around now and act like i dont care then I will be seen as blatantly rude...but if I stay standing in a awkward and quiet frankly vulnerable posisition I'm actually winning. 
See she will never be really sure that I have seen her because she has the overall advantage by being behind me. 
Its more in her court to come over to me...but again, due to my early spot, and the clear fact that i have stood frozen facing off center from the entrance to avoid her seeing me, she could also state that she did not realise i was there because all she could see was the back of me.
Oh its a cruel cruel world. 
I'm actually annoyed. My brother, my eyes, tells me that Helen and her friends have twice looked in our direction "she's probably told them she's seen me and doesnt want to talk to me"
"Mmm mmm, i think so. They all looked over, then they kind of formed a wall, like they were hiding her from youre prying eyes"
"Ack - she's good, but who the bloody hell doesnt want to talk to me? i'm brilliant!"
Brother scoffs.

"When are they going to let us in!" a woman shouts behind us. I look at her, my movements limited because Helen is somewhere behind me, and I dont know where.
The woman behind us was growling, almost spitting. I look at her bag of popcorn, its almost empty. If I'd paid almost a fiver for popcorn, only to eat it all before the film, i'd be pissed too. You get peckesh during the films...its not on. I digress.


"So what are you going to do, stand facing the wall until we go in?" my brother laughs.
I'm hungry for popcorn now. I don't like being hungry it makes me cranky.
"Don't mock me brother  - at least I'm going to be cool and reasonably refreshed with my cold bottle of Evian"
He looks at me in part incredulity and part dislike and part awe. 
Just when i think my body will cramp , the guys with the funny 3-D glasses open the doors and I am safe...
"Wouldnt it be funny if she was actually sitting next to us?" My brother sticks the knife in and twists it one last time. I have taught him well.
"Shit. youre right" Tickets are allocated, so there'll be no moving seats for me.
I decide its best to just play dumb. I can bull shit as much as the next person and definitley as much as you Helen. I know your game, i say to myself.
We take our seats, I put my ridiculous glasses on and scan the exits as punters flood in.
I have the advantage here. Im seated, and at the level we're at i have a good view to spot her and act. Also the dark room virtually makes me with my chocolate skin - almost invisible.


When my brother has stopped laughing, and I have given up caring, slowly but surely I see Helen and her cronies filter in, they take their shoddy seats waaaaaay down below our level. 
"Happy now?" My brother asks, slyly using this point to take my water from me 
"No, cheeky mare, she could have at least said hello."

YOU KNOW...

...when your on the tube, or train etc and it pulls up at a station, peeps get off, they get on etc, then the platform guard (or whatever they're called) announces for everyone to stand back because the doors are about close, then the *b-b-b-b-beeep* sound kicks in then the doors start to shut?

Well I've always thought that was perfectly adequate timing and procedure to allow people to use their ears, eyes and common sense in order to safely enter and exit the carriage. So it's always bugged me why some suit decides at the last beeping second that he/she is sprightly enough to jump through the closing doors before the tube moves on.
I mean - maybe its like some secret game or maybe its the best part of these numpties days? I mean when the alarm bells ring, is it really worth potentially risking your life and most definitely your dignity just to get caught in between the closing doors? I mean its so embarrassing right? why do that, on a train full of people, who then have to choose to A) help the idiot who got stuck and B) pretend that they didn't notice for the rest of the journey ...no fair, i always thought. I'm always the one to laugh first...mainly out of sheer embarrassment for the culprit/ victim.


That is a lesson learned.
It was but two weeks ago upon returning from a lunch date with a good friend that jumped on the Central Line to Bond street, where I would then change for the Jubilee Line to Southwark (home)

As I had my wedge boots on, I was feeling pretty long legged and..sprightly.
So as I cat-walked down the escalators to the platform I saw a crowd of people approach from the other direction. Clearly a tube had just pulled up, but I wasn't in the mood to run for it. I hate running, or I thought I did until a few second later.

When I got to the platfor I noticed the tube was still there. People ran passed me, but with the doors wide open, and the passengers already standing inside watching me, I was too proud to run...''its going to close in a second, dont do it Alex'' I repeated to myself.

But that voice is like something devilish, because to me, that voice sounds like it wants me to do the opposite. So naturally I started power walking towards the open doors.

I could see from the look of one passenger who had ran passed and successfully and UN-embarrassingly jumped on, that I was on a fools errand. He backed up to give me some room and to rightly protect himself from my inevitable collision.

Now I was wearing wedge boots, so yes my run was a little retarded, but I was so sure I was going to make a clean entrance.
That's when the *b-b-b-b-beeep* came. 'What...' the ever present 'voice of regret' voice in my head hollered. 'What about the platform guard's (or whatever) announcement...? he announces before the doors make a sound!'

I felt cheated, but I couldnt stop running, and one last leap saw me high jumping like an Olympic athlete on to the carriage...the doors swiftly closing behind me. I was home free.
No. No I wasn't. My bag hadn't made it (if only I'd worn the strap over bag...) and the whole tube stopped moving because of moi.  I struggled to yank the bag through the unrelenting doors, and it eventually took a man in a suit (laughing may i add) to help yank the doors open and free my bag (which i was awkwardly still carrying over my shoulder.)

So never will I laugh or judge any civilian who suffers the consequences of running at the last minute for a tube. When you think you can make it, the adrenaline kicks in and suddenly your invincible. I've been on the other side and I didn't like it.

Papa K

Happy birthday innit Papa K -
I made him a carrot cake with a mascarpone topping.  A lot of love went in to it. Now we will feast on Chinese food, sip on Lambrini (Our classy tradition) and watch Eastenders!

Today will be a good day...

...maybe it's the booze talking as I write this *at 3.40 in the morn eeek!!*

Having just got back from a old and dear mate of mine's 24th birthday gathering, I am in high spirits.
Now Sunday is already here (the weekends go way to quickly don't they? ack) I can feel that it will be a pleasant weekend ended on a high.


Im seeing Ponyo (Studio Ghibli's recent western audience release) at the BFI and I can not wait for that either! Then its off to the delicious PING PONG restuarant where I will be hanging with my bestest funniest tallest coolest beautiful friend for her birthday - she is also 24 and I can not wait to see her

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Aw man - i don't even really like the header. Will.change.tomorrow.

dep⋅ri⋅va⋅tion /ˌdɛprəˈveɪʃən/ [dep-ruh-vey-shuhn]

Whoever said that Sleep is for Whimps must have been ugly.
Ugly and sufficiently deprived of sleep that they coined a phrase so stupid and nonsensical.
I can't sleep so I write. Then I procrastinate by looking at other Blogs. Read. Always read...and in the spur of the moment i convince myself that even though i am tired (my eyes are sooo heavy woe is me) that I should in fact change my Blog Header. Now I know, its 2 in the morning and I have work in 6 hours - what the heck am I doing and why?
It's called self torture.

And it's got to stop.

24 is a little crap...

Birthday's - love them.
Especially when they're not my own - i have this center of attention complex where I hate organising or having some sort of event dedicated to me - mainly because i'm lazy and like having the option of slipping away.

However this weekend I have 2 of my longest and strongest beautiful mates turning 24 (one day after the other) and I have no idea what to get or do for either...I have like 2 days.

Now the fact they are my closest friends but are not close to each other is strange - however they are practically twins so the stars must be doing something right - What does on do for 24? its still in the 22 - 24 limbo, 25 is the sad but inevitable 'ooo your almost 30' age...but its a landmark, like 16, 18 and 21...and 30. However 22-24 is strange - and no one really wants to celebrate it. I know I don't.

All I do know is that there is food involved on both nights...booze, dancing and food. That's an added incentive (the first being i get to see my friends this weekend...*cough*)

Ron Clements (+ Adam Levine)

This is Ron Clements. Even MORE kind faced in life.

How many girls can say they have the creator of The Little Mermaid's name scrawled on a peice of inconspicuous paper and pinned to their 'Notice Board of Keepsakes'

Hoepfully only one. Me!
That's right Ron Clements co- creator of Disney's 1989 (c'mon the only version worth knowing) The Little Mermaid was present, along with Anika Noni Rose the BFI southbank(NFT) for the Q&A preview screening of The Princess and the Frog. I met him and with the aid of a friend, spoke briefly and got his marvellous artistic hands to be forever immortalised in my possession. I'm swooning over it still. I would like to take the time to disclose that I'm not one of those people who chase celebs for their autographs, really I'm not - I get photos sometimes, but rarely.

I do have Adam Levine of Maroon 5 fame's a'graff, but that's because I was 17 and strolling through Covent Garden listening to his album and out of no where, Adam walks out in front of me. I was with my sister at the time, and she agreed it was too surreal that I happened to be rocking out to the CD which was in my bag, and to not get him to sign it would be a huge regret.
So I did, and he seemed chuffed to do it. I don't think he pictured his fan would be a short black South East London girl hanging out in Covent Garden with his bands CD in tow...his exact words of incredulity were : You carry the CD around with you? - Pssh whatever Levine, my mini disc player was broken and mp3s were still breaking on to the scene. It was acceptable to have a CD player on you at the time.

Its been a good couple of weeks thank him upstairs (or whatever helps you sleep at night)

ATTENTION MEN OF LDN

CUT YOUR NAILS!

Ew. I have encountered too many man skulking round town with long claws, and the majority of them are dirty and un-even ... its plain laziness not some new 'metrosexual' look. I have *bullied in to* taught my brother the importance of clipping his nails, It's just nasty...i don't even like long nails on girls, and i don't want to hear all that malark about men who play instruments needing long nails blah blah blurgh....

*Shudder* GET THEM CUT AND CLEANED BOI!


Oh my Gosh. I think i'm going to pass out. Ew.

Hair today gone tomorrow...

Apologies for the title in advance - but i've always wanted to use the saying in some relevant context and this proved to be the perfect opp.

So im back in studio hence lack of posts but i still have something to rant about now and then.
Like today - an attractive young black woman sat opposite me and my collegues on the tube heading east from White City.
She took out a comb to brush her weave. Pretty normal so far and not a crime commited granted, but when she pulled the brush away, she actually did something that made me gasp, laugh and cringe in horror all at the same time.

She did something we black weave wearing girls do only in private (or should do anyway) she actually pulled the dead hair attached to the brush in broad artificial light for everyone to see and dashed it on to the floor!

First of all - that's a big NO GO.
If your going to brush 'your' hair, dont discard the straggly bits in a public place it's foul!

Second - Dont brush that hair like its not going to come away from your head because its not YOURS LOVE! thats why so many of these girls walk around with bad weave. They never leave it alone, they want it perfectly straight, they need to brush it every half hour and believe its growing out their head.

I was in momentary shock that I couldnt hide my disgust fast enough and it wasn't log before we were looking eye to eye. Thas when I started laughing. It was a nervous laugh mixed with a laugh of incredulity. She blushed, and tried not to look at the thick strands (now dancing across the tube carriage floors under the feet of perplexed tourists) .

Urgh - makes me want my natural fro even more so i can pledge no more affinity to such vile embarrassing acts. Whats that saying about not airing out your dirty laundry?...

Incident 05.01.10

This is the first incident of 2010 for me.


So work has begun in studio and the heat is on. I have been running around like crazy, all the while drinking water on the way to keep me from passing out from all the running I've been doing.

Inevitably the time comes when I need to go to the loo to pass out all the liquid I've been ingesting. With my studio walkie in one hand and my pen and program call sheet in the other I made a bee line from the studio floor to the ladies lav.

Now I'm not a patient person - and when i gotta go i gotta go - and that day I really need to pee, you know when it springs up on you, and you know if you don't make it to the bog in time your going to be known as the woman who wet herself in the BBC.

Not taking the chance I found myself hopping in the cubicle desperately trying to figure out how to free my hands so i could pull my pants down.
My mind took a while to register any co-ordination before i clipped the walkie handset to my belt and threw the piece of paper and pen on the floor. I won't take you through all the details, but only this. I was in the toilet to pee - that was all. I hadn't eaten anything at this point so there was nothing else to pass (nasty but true) So you can imagine my confusion when I heard the unmistakable 'PLOP' below me.

I must have looked ridiculous, in a tiny cubicle, crouching (i don't sit on public toilets urgh), staring in to space with a befuddled look on my face. 'what was that?' I said to myself.

Taking the time to collect myself, when i pulled my trousers back on that i noticed there was not weight on the back pocket. My walkie handset was still attached to my belt, but i knew there had been something nestled in the rear. I turned round to investigate. LO AND BEHOLD - my Nokia 5800 Comes With Music phone in the depths of the porcelain bowl. submerged in yellow water, but not (unfortunately) beyond my rescue.

For some reason I took the time to take in what was happening. I realised i needed to get it out - but I wasn't sure if I was ready to throw my hand in there.

• Had the toilet been flushed before i had used it?
  
• was someone else's wee mixed in there with mine ?
• If I did take it out, will it smell of wee?
• Why didnt I take it out of my back pocket!!!?
• Should I radio through to the whole team to explain why I was being held up?
• Is it insured?
• Did this mean i could leave T-mobile now?
  
• did i need my phone that badly?

my pictures of Maxwell ...the numbers of people i wouldn't get from anywhere else! these are all the thoughts that perused in my mind, as the acidic liquid probably fried the electronics of my phone.

I turned to see the toilet roll and knew what had to be done. Wrapping layers of it (like it would protect me pah) round my hand, and closing my eyes I dove in.
Phone in hand I rushed to the sink and didn't even bother to take it apart. I had to make sure my hand was OK. My poor poor hand.

I must have stood there for half an hour, washing and drying and washing my hand over and over. It was upon the advice of laughing work colleagues that i then took apart my phone and dried it on the radiator. Till this hour it is not working. But i remembered my friend Mavis Bean dropped her phone in to the Cambridge canal (hilarious story but too long to tell) and a long while after she got home she threw it in to a bowl of dry rice for a few hours and it came back to life.

Thats where my precious Nokia 5800 Xpress comes with music phone is now. In a bowl of rice with the prayers of a woeful owner cradling it and trying not to cry.

Twenty Ninth of December Two Thousand and Nine

Since Christmas is over...and since my last couple of wasted posts (sorry about that) I have recuperated. That is to say I have been watered (a little 'Christmas Tipple' is rampant in the Kessie house) and fed (I'm fat...but happy). As always Christmas brought food and booze, arguments, prayer, contemplation and thanksgiving to me being in the family that i am in and being brought up by /with the best people in the world.

Christmas Cheer has made the last moments of what I previously deplored as a 'filler [somber] year', upon reflection it hasn't been all that bad - I'm alive and well and have learned a lot about myself...like - I love my natural locks - and I will not have a weave in by the end of 2010. I also discovered and proved that I have a natural talent for storytelling, and I am 100% sure that I will pursue it further having enrolled and completed two courses in 2009.
I also discovered that if I don't want to do something, then my own word is final, and I shouldn't feel bad for it - and I haven't, thus I found myself in better situations as to previous years when I would stress myself to no end to make others happy.
I have also learned to trust my own judgements and to make them - make choices and to use my initiative. Though it isnt always right, know one berates you for it - we are human after all. Having been given a role that requires a lot of responsibility, I have noted recently, I will need to be more thorough and confident in myself in order to take the lead. I am excited about this, and thus grateful that 2009 helped me set the ball rolling. Now 2010 can only get better - for everyone.

I also spruced up the depths of the Trolls cave that is my Love life - and note that I am not completely unattractive to the other sex, nor to ones that are actually my type! (yay) it was with my growing confidence and straightfoward 'fun and sexy' (pah!) approach to said gender that has set me on good course to play with my new found appeal to boys.

Oh and 2009 has helped me to recognise a kookier individual style that I intend to grasp and hone !!!

Take the good with the bad - thats what this year was about - I just needed to put my former self pitying views in to perspective and realise that I was even lucky to bare witness (fingers crossed its still 2 days before the New Year as I write this...) to seeing another year out!
bring on 2010.

To my Horror

it twas the night before christmas - and television was bloody awful.

Aside from the Snowman on Channel 4, the selection of 90s family movies is dire. 2009...urgh

Boys

Boys are sooooo like urgh.


I went on a date with one recently. I told myself I liked him much because he had pretty blue eyes and shaggy hair. I quickly realised that I didnt. I still like another boy. The one who is forcing me to chase him.

THE CHASE. Ah, we moan about it, but its fun no? Maybe that's what was amiss with said recent boy. He didn't let me chase him, he is chasing me. Its all I want from a good looking guy, with his own company and brains and a big heart...but instead I just couldnt get myself to like him in that way.

The guy that I DO like keeps blowing me off with texts saying: ''sorry its late notice but'' or ''im working lates but ''

URGH

Yet we go back for more - because the latter guy is mysterious, cool and just sexy, i want to, have to get to know him...
The former has asked me out to ice skate. I haven't facebook-ed him back yet...sigh

2009 you will be forgotton and not missed

No this is not a breakdown of the year or even the decade that is coming to a close, you were all there at some point... so whatever.


What I will say is that Good Riddence to 2009. Maybe it's just me but my goodness...what a waste. I can say hand on heart that for me 2009 was a 'filler' year...thats my opinion. It was also a sombre year, a year that dragged on (but kind of didnt), and didn't really allow for much accomplishment.
Celebs fell (yes they are human too, I know) like dominoes...i think it was a case of it being celebs that I all knew...or grew up knowing and the fact that the majority of them just died fatally, I know some were ill, but we were told they were in remission, having a come back tour...see as a child of late 80s/90s I found more affinity towards Patrick Swayze, John Hughes, Michael Jackson, even Jade Goody and Brittany Murphy, than I did to past celebs, because I could safely say, I grew up and they were around growing up too - (Micheal was just always there) but Murphy from Clueless, Hughes from every best teen film of the 80s and family movies of the early 90s - Swayze from Dirty Dancing, Ghost and that film he did with Keanu Reeves...so it was a little close to home methinks.
The press banged on about Recession, no one listened really. Even Obamas augaration seems like it was a decade ago, the hype has died down and those people expecting quick fire results now realise that he is just someone who set the wheels in motion for a better future.

Good lord - see this post is sombre...



Yes I did things I am proud of - but I ve done better things that I remember in 1999...I doubt this odd 12 month will even register. I felt like I slept through it. 2009. The Year that time should forget.

What to do when t[HE]y don't text, call or show any interest...

Eat, Drink, Laugh, Sing, Dance, look Gorgeous and be fabulous!

...and that's that. Who wants to wallow in self pity when it's not your loss but theirs?

So...

I am inspired even more now, after months of researching and endless watching of video blogs, I am going to let my hair out and let it run wild with no blow-dry no heat no nuffin' but shampoo, conditioner and moisturiser.

I am so excited about the transition, because I have had my hair covered up for as long as I can remember - i used to be all natural - then relaxer's (damn you to hell Just for Kids and Dark and Lovely!!!) came to fashion in the 90s. My hair was never luxuriously long and thing anyhow, but looking back at my pre-relaxer years I had a good old puff going on. If only I had stuck to that, if only my mum had been strong enough and thought : ''you know what, my baby girl is going to have to live through pain of comb outs and like it!'' Then maybe i would have a puffy mane this side of London to Bora Bora. (I know...bora bora...really?, but its sounds so funny)

Alas - she didnt, I permed my hair straight like every other Dru Hill loving ( <---- click it eeek i forgot how much i loved them) , tracksuit and Gap kagool wearing, tween and it broke off faster than you can say... bora bora?(not so funny)
Its safe to say that I had my hair chopped off a fair amount after that, and under the wise decision of my cousin (who was also my hairdresser at the time) I stopped relaxing my hair to let it grow natural and healthy.

My mum wasn't so sure at first, but when she noticed the damage being done she was all for it. Since I have been under an array of protective styles: pick and drop, kinky, human hair plait/twist extensions, and full head weaves (something I have sported for a good three years now.)

They are all great techniques to help transitioning, and those who THINK they can not deal with their hair or are simply just not ready...moi a case in point.

But I love the idea of letting it all out. I frequently sport kiny twists and curly weaves in the vain hope of fooling myself and others that my natural do is pretty much perfectly the same. Its not and never will be fake, and thats the beauty of it. So I have to embrace it, and more importantly, I'm ready. Naturally Leslie's blog is inspiring, and various youtube videos and black hair blogs show an increasing want of black women trying to take control and shun the costly and unnatural limitations of weaves, perms and relaxers - and show off what other races can never have. It's time for us to show off what we've got no? oooo I love it...

So come december 18th. I will be rocking a natural do...oo ooo ooo ! its the holidays and i'm off work for two weeks - i think its best for me, to get used to it first with people i love around me, supporting me...rather than that annoying person who stalks down the corridor and announces to the world that ''oo you cut your hair?'' no..no it wasnt mine to begin with../ ''Oh right...what?'' then they try to touch it. Nah, i'm not ready to share ...

A decision

Sunday Decleration

Is it appropriate to wear a leather skirt (very mini) to a (very) pre-christmas dinner party?

Whatever I'm shaking this dull rainy day up by not wearing jeans and trainers. I'll save that for days in the office.