keeping eva happy

water water everywhere

2011-11-26T23:22:00.000Z

There must be a little masochist inside me. A cranky, self-flagellating man, Silas from the Dan Brown books if you will. Because I am laying here, desperate with thirst, dry lipped, sore throated, enfeebled and headachy in a flat with working taps and many bottles of Evian. None of these happen to be within arms reach. So it is probably safe to assume that my masochist is in cahoots with the lazy bastard who keeps my arse welded to the sofa. This is how people kill themselves slowly.

Purpose

2011-11-10T22:45:00.000Z

What elevates us above the other primates is our ability to think philosophically. Who am I? What is real? Why am I here? Our ability to ask these questions is both a blessing and a curse. We are blessed that we have the capacity for existential thought, but we are cursed in that the questions we ask have had no satisfactory answer for thousands of years. It is unfulfilling and possibly pointless, but our nature ensures that we will continue question.

I feel that today I went some way towards answering the unanswerable "Why am I here?" by realising my purpose; my overall reason for doing the things that I do. Why have I studied? Why am I continuing in this career? What are my plans for the future? All of these questions now seem, in my head at least to have some kind of unifying answer, and I feel that I may soon be on my way to living a Purpose Driven Life.

I'm not a Christian in any sense of the word, and I haven't read the book of that title, but the phrase perfectly encompasses how I am feeling right now. Once there is a purpose that drives you, your actions are automatically imbued with special meaning, unconsciously pushing you to greater effort and greater success.

In my career I feel that there are two main priorities. To help people, and to make money. As a slave cannot serve two masters, everyone has a slant towards one or the other and some are wholly entrenched in one camp. I do like money, I like the doors that money can open, and a life without money worries is an easy (easier) life but I want to help people. The feeling when a dental phobic patient tells you that they trust you is indescribable. I want that to continue.

I'm sitting here and I was compelled to write because I'm feeling so inspired right now, but you'll realise that I have yet to state my purpose here. This is because it isn't yet in a form that lends itself easily to description. It's a feeling, an idea, a thought, a spark of something special that is not yet alight. I know that for dreams to be realised their airy insubstantial nature has to be solidified with specifics and time frames but I'm not ready for that yet. I'm inspired, and I want to enjoy this feeling.

no es bueno!

2011-10-29T21:31:00.001+01:00

I went on a date last month with a guy that I am pretty sure is the only hottie in the small town in which I currently find myself. He was a sexy brown skinned mix of Cubano and Brasileiro parentage, raised in France with a slight Brummie twang. He had bright green eyes, captivating and cheeky, and a smile to match.

We're both new to the area. So we picked a pretty central place to meet, outside a local bar.

So far pretty standard stuff right?

We were both late, which is a pretty sad way of determining a potential soul mate, but whatever works. When I walked up to the bar to meet him, he hugged me, then proceeded to circle me, the aforementioned green eyes raking me from locs to toes, with noticeable pauses in various areas of my anatomy, letting out a long and extended;

"buuueeeennoooooo"

*pause*

I felt a little bit violated.

Gentlemen this is not a good look.

Objectification at its finest!

So much has changed...

2011-09-18T23:27:00.000+01:00

...and yet so much is unpleasantly familiar.

I'm trying to remember that sometimes people need to stick with the superficial, for peace and a simple life. Sometimes buried stuff should stay buried. Its easier. Less hot, sweaty, digging up of the past. If I thought that opening up would benefit me in any way, I'd do it. But I have nothing new to add to the discussion. Just "what's wrong with you?" and "what's wrong with me?", depending on the day's confidence level. I still don't think I've heard the complete unvarnished truth, and I don't think I will, because I'm staying superficial. I'll save my depths for the more deserving.

Thats Dr Eva!

2011-06-16T12:13:00.001+01:00

FOUR YEARS!!

Four years of life and I have finally reached the day that made it all worth while. Last friday I opened an envelope while my heart pulsed in my mouth and then cried as I read Final Grade - BDS (Hons). These weren't pretty tears. They were snotty, red eyed, honking sobs of gratitude and relief, since I had managed to convince myself that I had failed at least one of the exams. I hadn't quite composed myself when I called my parents and they were sure I had failed until I managed to get the good news out.

So now I'm a doctor (ish). A doctor of teeth. And I couldn't be happier.

Results weekend fell on the weekend of my 26th birthday so it really was a celebration, presents included a stack of cash, a kindle (can't wait til Amazon finally delivers this), jewellery and a holiday to the Dominican Republic (although technically this was less of a present and more my Dad trying to get rid of his airmiles).

I am walking around London with a ridiculous smile on my face. I'm a clown. I look like I have been botoxed this way. I don't care.

Back down on earth I still have patients to finish off and bureaucracy to navigate so I can move to Oxford with a clear head.

"deeeeeep"

2011-05-22T15:10:00.000+01:00

I was perusing twitter, as you do when the biggest exams of your life are on the horizon and the pressure is turning you into a crazy person, and I found that someone had tweeted:

#Deep ----» "The worst moment for the atheist is when he is really thankful and has nobody to thank" | Dante Rossetti"

I #facepalmed, because this is about as deep as....

...my simile engine has failed me, it's just not deep at all. According to google Rossetti was a painter and poet and more interestingly, he is Cristina Rossetti's brother. Google also says that during the course of his life he turned away from the anglican christian doctrine of his upbringing, so it's interesting that this quote is attributed to him. Unfortunately my five minute search couldn't find any context for it so I'll have to accept it as read. which makes it a bald faced lie.Admittedly there are certain times where any one raised in a Christian household, whatever their current religious affiliation, is going to need to call god's name in vain. Some examples:

During a lottery win "OH MY GOD!!"

During sex: "OH GOD!" (doesn't really have an effective replacement, swearing is a little more vulgar and "OH DARWIN" is a passion-killer if your dude's name isn't Charles)

During labor: "OH GOD!" (apparently pushing a human out of your body is painful, who knew? Again swearing is more vulgar, but I guess in this instance you could substitute "god" with whoever knocked you up)

But these are just commonly used literary/ verbal constructs. When something goes well for an atheist and he is thankful, he can thank all the people that a theist would thank in addition to god, his parents, his significant other, his dog! Whoever he felt made a positive contribution to his success. He can thank himself and all the hard work that he put in to make something happen. If he's a young american he could even thank his haters (but that requires a post all of it's own).

So I guess this is just to say, thanks for the concern Dante, but I think we'll be just fine :-)

why you shouldn't thank your haters

2011-05-22T15:09:00.000+01:00

Because you probably don't have any!

Yes there may be people in your life that don't like you *shrug* not everyone is going to like you.

Yes there may be people at your job who don't agree with your method of completing a task *shrug* not everyone is going to agree with you.

Yes there may be people on the street who don't smile at you *shrug* not everyone is happy for you.

These are not haters, these are people to whom your life is irrelevant, a very different concept.

Just to confirm that my stance was correct, I went to the urban dictionary to get an up-to-date definition of exactly what a hater is:

[NB: there are 17 pages of definitions]

1. A person that simply cannot be happy for another person's success. So rather than be happy they make a point of exposing a flaw in that person.

2. Overused word that people like to use just because someone else expresses a dislike for a certain individual.

All of the other 117 entries are variations on the above. From my tone you can probably sense that I am in agreement with definition 2. When it comes to people liking you and being happy for your success I say *shrug* not everyone is going to like you or be happy for you, and that is their right. The only time that this should ever be a problem is if their negative words or actions have a tangible negative effect on you life. The English language already has words for this, libel, slander, bullying.

I hate (ha!) the word hater even more when it is used to describe a person who has no interest in a particular celebrity. Case in point, my response to the hijaking of all terrestrial television channels by kate and will's wedding. My facebook status made note of the fact that I had no interest in anything but her dress, and when I finally saw that I was disappointed, I thought it was quite boring. I may have also said that from some angles she looked like tiffany from eastenders (who I actually thought was quite pretty at the time). The cries of "HAAAAATER" came in thick and fast. Short of sending a wedding gift, I had no way of quieting the rabble.

When did expressing a negative opinion become hating? What happened to balance? As with many things that are wrong in the world, I blame america. Maybe that makes me a hater? *shrug*

Pescatarianism

2011-05-21T19:34:00.000+01:00

Three weeks ago (tomorrow) I gave up on chicken. Since I already didn't eat pork or beef (except in lasagne - yum) and lamb was a very rare thing, I decided to do a month of vegetarianism, just to see if I could, and if it would have any effect on my wellbeing. After the first week I was craving tuna, so I adjusted my goal to pescatarianism, and this may actually become a permanent lifestyle choice.

First things first - PLEASE don't tell my Dad. He has been pushing his meat-free lifestyle on us for a very long time (he's also dairy-free, egg-free, shellfish-free, but eats fish - as with most things he supercedes classification). I've told him that I'm doing this for a month, so we'll see if he notices that it continues.

I miss mum's roast chicken. Sunday lunch is a staple in my house, at 3pm we're all around the table while Mum dishes out crispy roast potatoes, vegetables, my mac and cheese and either succulent roast chicken or a vegan tofu based concoction for Dad and J. Now I am sure I can be pescatarian without ingesting the gelatinous white mass that is tofu - bleugh, but it will make Sunday's difficult.

Today I had the best soup (store-bought) I've had with no chicken. Tesco's Finest Puy Lentil and Tomato - delish, it didn't even need the extra kick of hot pepper sauce that I added (I cried like a baby). Please try it - and thank me when you see me.

When exams are over and I actually start cooking again I have soooooo many recipe ideas that I want to try and hopefully I can put them up here with some photographs - call it an early draft of Mama Eva's cook book.

[Just to clarify - NONE of these food choices have anything to do with having a particularly human attitude to animals reared for meat. In that regard my attitude remains firmly carnivorous. I will still eat eggs, fish, shellfish, wear leather shoes, sit on leather sofas, and if someone buys me a fur coat I'd wear that too, and woe betide any PETA activists that attack it with red paint - grrrrr!]

papa don't preach

2011-04-18T23:01:00.000+01:00

Something you should know about me:

I am a Daddy's girl. Everyone who knows me, will pick up on the fact, very soon into conversation that I hold my Pops in very high esteem. Everything I know, I owe to my Dad. He emphasised the importance of learning and equipped me will the skills to find and critically analyse information. Because he did shift work, my Dad was the parent that came on school trips in primary school (where everyone thought he was my older brother - but his secret stash of youth fountain water is another story entirely). I once really upset my Mum, by declaring that "Daddy's are the best because they do things with you" and to this day she hasn't let me forget it!

He is also my physical inspiration. Blessed with good genes that convert excess food to heat not fat, he finds it near impossible to put on weight, but he isn't lazy. His upper body strength even when he isn't training is phenomenal.

He can do this:

Yeah watch it - and feel the burden of inadequacy (and reluctant admiration and grudging inspiration) that comes from having a father that is physically fitter at forty-*ahem* than you will ever be! He can fix pretty much anything, occasionally he reads instruction manuals, but not often. I remember the slug-like keloid scar on his arm that he earned putting together the fitted kitchen in the house I grew up in. To be completely honest, he is probably the reason most guys don't live up to my expectations - they definitely broke the mould when they made him.

Is he perfect? Ha! Far from it, but who in life is? The two flaws that I believe destroyed our relationship when I was a teenager, controlling and patronising behaviour, are funnily enough two flaws that I see in myself today. They say you become your parents but I guess I was expecting my Mother's influence to weigh-in a little more. I find his well worn parenting phrases in my mouth often (some of which I am sure he stole from Furious Styles - but apparently this wasn't intentional). He is also solider for Patriarchy which, as I am an intern for Feminism, leads us to disagree...

sunshine in greenwich park

2011-04-06T22:08:00.003+01:00

Today I had a perfect day.

I spent the morning studying and watching Archer - animated series that is just WRONG! Get on it if you aren't already! Thanks for the heads up my friend. Also had some issues with some meat - but the less said about that the better.

But today was a B-E-A-utiful day. The sky was cerulean, the sun was actually warming the world for the first time this year, and since I had a rare day off there was no way that I wasn't going to enjoy it.

So I took my self down to Greenwich (one of (if not) my favourite places in London) and sat in the park by the lake soaking up the sun. I'm still as pale as ever, but I'd like to think I have a glow, and I hope it lasts at least until tomorrow.

I stayed in the park until the sun started to set, then walked over to Ben and Jerry's for a scoop of double chocolate fudge brownie *droooooool* but it was closed! Yep, I didn't get my ice-cream, but today was still perfect.

So I thought I share some of the music that made today special - and if you had a sucky day in an office somewhere I hope these songs bring a lil bit of my perfect day to you.

brokey mcpoverty

2011-04-06T11:12:00.000+01:00

Studenthood begets brokeness

Brokeness begets stupidity

Stupidity begets hoping the meat that was frozen and defrosted and refrozen when I left the freezer door open accidently, will still be edible and cooking it up in a pot to check.

Not sure I actually want to eat it though - are times really that hard?

internet dating - a eulogy

2011-04-06T00:01:00.000+01:00

To be completely and 100% honest, I have been involved in some form of internet dating since the age of 17. Blackpeeps, MSN and Yahoo messenger, Face-pic, Hi5, Myspace and even POF. I am currently single and I have never been in a relationship with a guy I have met on-line. I have made a couple good friends who I am very grateful to have in my life, and I have made some stupid mistakes that lead me to count myself lucky that I am not one of any number of negative statistics.

What was my stupidest moment?

On meeting The DJ for the first time in person (after we had been talking on and off for about a year), I jumped into his car (no note of the registration number, no destination to text to a well meaning friend) late at night and was whisked to his home in that borough that claims to be part of South London. Luckily I was wined and dined and returned home at my request. He was a perfect gentleman. The outcome could so easily have been very different.

My excuse:

Restricted childhoods create reckless individuals unable to adequately process risk - read "book smart, street stupid".

My corroborating evidence:

The vast number of Asian girls who go into halls in the first year of university and lose their damn minds to cheap alcohol (racial stereotyping? yes - but my blog, my rules!)

Anyway so I've come to the conclusion (after 8 years - I am really THAT slow) that internet dating does not work for me. At ALL!

I just can't take it seriously. I can't get excited about being written to by a profile picture and some well meaning text. Trusting someone to accurately describe themselves online is like trusting homeopaths to put an accurate description of the contents of their remedy on the jar (read - placebo).

The men are cheesy. Many lack shame. I have been messaged on more than one occasion by men older than my (grand)dad. They tend to tell me that age is nothing but a number. I tend to block them.

My flighty Gemini tendencies mean I get excited when a guy with hot pictures messages me, but then illiteracy and text speak turns me right off. Is it too much to ask for, a sexy guy that reads? That knows that slang isn't appropriate for all situations?

Ah who am I kidding, He could be Morris Chestnut with a personal library (*drools*, *daydreams about the many ways Morris and I would enjoy that library*, *drools some more*, *regains focus*, *ahem*) if the chemistry, physical attraction and compatibility aren't there then what's the point? And those are the things that I find impossible to judge online. Which means I usually don't give a damn about meeting up. Which generally defeats the entire purpose.

So on that note I pledge my allegiance to traditional face-to-face methods of meeting and greeting, and hereby declare my current POF page closed until further notice. Internet dating will only be reattempted:

1) If my biological clock ever makes an appearance

2) If the pickings in Banbury are slim-to-none

3) If I get bored while studying and require some help with my procrastination.

Otherwise...

studying

2011-04-05T22:57:00.000+01:00

"Studying" (and yes the quotation marks are intentional and informative) tends to form the bulk of my existence. The thought is depressing. But in the past 4 years every person in my life has told me...

..."It will all be worth it"

Bleugh! - clearly I am a slave to instant gratification because that well meaning platitude does nothing but irritate.

It is now 2 months until my exams. The final exams. The ones that will determine if my lazy, work shy attitude and perpetual lack of attendance have had any lasting effect on my ability to drill teeth (or pull them out - which is infinitely more satisfying).

I actually have nothing to say right now, this is just another procrastination attempt that I thought I would share with my reader (singular - also intentional - you know who you are my darling!)

Life updates:

I have a J-O-B! Which is obviously conditional on passing my exams and obtaining or qualification - or I would probably just go now. This j-o-b is in a country town called Banbury, seriously, the epitome of middle England. My dental practice is in a grade 2 listed building near Banbury Cross (and if that sounds familiar, go back to your book of nursery rhymes)

Following on from that I have handed in my notice to my typing gig in the Palace - ecstatic about that. It will free up a lot of time. And recently it hasn't been pulling in the big bucks like it used to. My last day is next friday and I will be attending for a lil Krispy Kreme doughnut party (going out in style).

My little (significantly taller than I) brother is turning 16 in a couple of weeks. Six-freaking-teen! I don't even know how to process that in any useful way. In my head he is still a lil fat-cheeked ball of fun (he'll never read this, it's okay), but the facts show that he is fast usurping my "golden child" reign. He volunteers, he Dukes of Edinburghs, he Wu Shu Kwans, he gets straight As, and he has great skin. He's lucky we are related and the bonds of siblinghood are strong or I would be plotting his downfall as we speak.

I hate my flat. This antipathy was born of searching for flats in Banbury (see above for reasons) and realising that for what I am currently paying, I could be living in a 2 bed, 2 bath, top floor flat, rather than the box I'm in right now. London weighting is a joke. It's hardly as if I am paying for location. On leaving my flat on the way to work recently I was confronted by dried blood speckles tracing a route to my bus stop - nice. You may call me an ungrateful bitch but while I appreciate the many benefits of living alone in London, I will fight for my right to bitch about the price.

2011-02-08T14:08:00.000Z

Just something I liked...

"When I do marriage counseling, I ask couples if they have the following feelings about their spouse:

1) They won't hurt me intentionally

2) They love me unconditionally

3) They have my best intentions at heart

4)We're in this together

If one of those is missing, I know I have a lot more work ahead of me. But when those things are there? It's worth it."

- Jayme C on Black and Bougie

on the way home...

2011-02-04T14:01:00.000Z

The Meeting Place - St Pancras Station, BBC Yorkshire

Descending the escalators we were confronted with a man and a woman entwined as if one body. Fierce in embrace and placing tender, heartfelt kisses on noses, upper lips and chins, the intensity of their affection parts the hoards of departing fans. To the averted eyes and whispers of "get a room" the entwined couple remained blissfully oblivious, lost in each other.

Running part 2

2011-02-01T20:45:00.000Z

For the first installement, please click here

I was at home today preparing for next week's interview and I felt stagnant and lazy. I had taken up permanent residence on my sofa. A true couch potato. And my body was unimpressed, my hips and low back and shoulders were sore, as though I slept in an awkward position. I had to get out.

Finally the trainers were laced, the i-pod charged and the sports bra located. The ground and the air were damp from earlier rain and felt fresh. I did some dynamic stretches because my underused muscles felt tight and stiff, drank some water, and left.

There is a park less than 1 minutes walk from my flat. I really have no excuse for my prolonged period of inactivity. The park is ringed by a path, and I jogged aroud it twice dodging cracks, potholes, uneven cambers and dog shit. All of these things preferable to running like a hamster on a treadmill surrounded by sweaty, grunting people. I think I'll try again on Thursday morning, let's see if I can get my ass in shape for Salvador!

masochist

2011-01-30T22:56:00.000Z

Uurgh I'm annoyed with myself and embarrassed at this most recent show of blinding insecurity.

I may have possibly spent the last 10 minutes doing an attractiveness comparison with an irrelevant chick's facebook photos.

*cringe*

In my defence, she should really have better privacy settings. Seriously, who has their facebook page, wall, info and photos open to any Tom, Dick and Harry with a broadband connection?

In case you are curious, today I was hotter than her. I'm not being bitchy, she's pretty, with gorgeous skin. But whatever, Sunday's always leave me in a warm, self satisfied mood so sod it, I win this round! In the harsh grey light of Monday morning I may come to a different conclusion and those emotional scalpels may leave metaphysical scars.

Maybe I'm a masochist.

Fela!

2011-01-19T18:46:00.000Z

By the skin of my teeth I was lucky enough to get tickets to see Fela! last week. I'm not going to review it. There are reviews, professional and otherwise, the length and breadth of the internet and they are universally positive. I don't have anything to add. Just go and see the show and you'll understand.

But it did raise a few issues for me that I'll be addressing in the next few weeks, when I actually find the time and mental accuity to write something. I have no idea why I'm so exhausted right now. I'm going to suggest that I should probably stop being a bum and do some exercise since I'm doing everything else, taking my vitamins, sleeping a lot, eating right, drinking water, but running never actually materialised. I think if I focus on the endorphin rush which I loved last year, I might be able to kick start something this weekend. We'll see.

That was a bit of a tangent.

Yes Fela! (and I feel like the exclamation mark is important and should always be included) gave me ideas, so look out for them in the next few weeks.

Spike Lee - "The african butt shaking, hehehe" - seriously - these chicks were not playyyyyyying. I've been doing my clock daily (Fela! joke - go see it!)

Chico and Rita

2011-01-15T22:19:00.003Z

Originally I heard about Chico and Rita back in November and I was intrigued. I made plans to see it at the Picturehouse, but unfortunately those plans fell through and I wasn't really in a cinema mood for a while after that. When I finally looked for a cinema that was still showing the film, I was so disappointed to find I'd missed it. I couldn't find it anywhere. I couldn't even find it online *shh - I was desperate*!

Thank God for facebook. After an impassioned plea Film Chick came to my rescue and pointed me towards a little cinema off Leicester Square for film lovers. It shows films that have finished their general release as well as some old flicks and preview screenings. They were showing Chico and Rita until the end of the week. So today I took myself to Green Park, strolled down Piccadilly and settled into my leather seat in Leicester Square, hoping that all the effort had been worth it.

Check out the trailer:

How beautiful is that?

It was definitely a readjustment, remembering how to appreciate hand drawn animation. The imperfections, the movement, the facial expressions all added to "el espíritu de la película"**.

Visually the film was a treat. Musically it surpassed even that. Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie made two of many jazz musician cameos. There was a little Casablanca, a little Josephine Baker and the song - Beseme Mucho. I don't know who sung it originally, but Nina does it justice below.

The film was never silent. 40s/50s jazz played a starring role with its own moods and the characters seems to act in accordance with the music rather than the other way around. The film could have been a music video - and that is meant in every way as a compliment to the way that the images and the music combine for a truly sensual experience.

Sadly even after all of this I left the film spectacularly annoyed!

HERE BE SPOILERS...

The film centres around Rita, a beautiful Cuban singer from 1940s pre-revolution La Habana. She meets Chico "the most talented piano player in Cuba" at a bar. After a few semi-minor hiccups, they fall in love, as expected, and perform together around La Habana. During one of these performances Rita is offered the chance to go to New York and perform without Chico. Initially she refuses, but after a night of being hurt by his drunken mistakes, she accepts and leaves the next day.

Chico and his friend Ramon follow her to New York and after many years (yes, I said years) of trials and tribulations, making up and breaking up, they decide to go to Las Vegas and get married. Awesome! Right? No. The night that they are supposed to meet, Rita is left waiting on a bed in a motel room unaware that Chico has been deported back to Cuba.

The film then returns to present day. Where Chico hasn't touched a piano since Castro's revolution labelled his music as imperialist. He is sought out by a young singer who wants him to play with her, and finally he reaches the dizzying heights of success he should have achieved long ago. Back in America he searches for what became of Rita....

...and finds her in the SAME MOTEL ROOM in Las Vegas, waiting for Chico to return, 47 years later.

FORTY SEVEN YEARS LATER?

Is this supposed to be romantic?

Is this romance?

To me this is nothing but an ending of abject misery and it ruined an amazing film. Rita waited 47 years, working as a chambermaid to pay for the room and board. She abandoned singing, had no lover, husband, children, grandchildren, career. She'd just spent 47 years waiting for Chico to arrive.

And if he hadn't?

If he'd never again left Cuba?

She would have died, in a skanky motel room, waiting for love. Truly tragic. And a reminder if ever I needed one, that patience is not so much of a virtue as people would have you believe. If you want something or someone, don't wait for the universe to align the stars correctly, do what you need to do to make it happen. If your efforts are in vain, you try something new or give up and move on. No, it's not easy, but it definitely beats 47 years of waiting for fate to intervene.

Wow.

A truly tragic ending, in the worst sense of the word.

**The spirit of the film - google translate is your friend

love and other drugs

2011-01-13T21:41:00.000Z

Directed by:
Edward Zwick

Starring:
Jake Gyllenhaal as Jamie Randall
Anne Hathaway as Maggie Murdock

I watched this film just as 2010 ended. I was in the Picturehouse with maybe 6 other people, embracing the peace and sweet popcorn that comes with a solo cinema trip. I didn't have great expectations. I had just watched The Tourist and seen how two actors, who individually are amazing, can suck the life from a film if they lack chemistry. Save your money, The Tourist shouldn't even be bought on DVD. Rent it if you must. But don't say I didn't warn you. However my girl-crush on Anne Hathaway and straight up lust for Jake Gyllenhaal meant I had to give this film a chance, and it didn't disappoint.

The film seems to consist of parallel plot arcs. The first is an expose of the seedy, morally bankrupt drugs industry. We're shown ostentatious displays of wealth by pharmaceutical companies, the greed of the drugs reps, and the unscrupulous doctors who push drugs from the company most likely to get them to Hawaii that summer. The characters in this plot are almost uniformly obnoxious with few redeeming qualities and their lavish displays of wealth are nauseating. Sadly we don't see any redemption for these characters and their excess makes them increasingly irrelevant as the film progresses.

The second arc is the love story and this is the reason this film touched me. I didn't realise how accustomed I'd become to seeing teenagers fall in love on the big screen. Boys with floppy hair and piercing eyes (Zac Efron and Robert Patterson, I mean you!) serenading a pretty, smart, ethnically ambiguous girl the night before the big game (thank you very much Disney).

But Maggie and Jamie are adults and this is grown-up love, admittedly through the eyes of two very emotionally stunted people who connect physically way before any emotion is involved. The much reported nudity isn't explicit or exploitative. It's really natural and fresh, almost European in its approach. And a definite two fingers up to the typical Hollywood post-coital scene with the duvet demurely above the level of the breasts of the actress and pubic hair of the actor.

At first glance Maggie and Jamie are pretty cliche. The slacker, turned smooth talking drugs rep with the ability to charm his way into any and all knickers, and the beautiful but terminally ill artist, with a spiky wit that keeps people at arms length - you have definitely seen these characters before. But Jake and Annie (yes, we're cool like that) breathe life into these characters, flesh them out and actually make you care about their journey.

Unfortunately the love story is marred by the addition of Jamie's younger brother. An unnecessary purveyor of masturbation, porn and voyeurism humour which stands out rudely from the overall tone of the film. I wish that Zwick had left this character on the cutting room floor.

Rating - 3.5/5

The best romantic comedy I have seen in a long time with some unfortunate, unnecessary additions.

it really is the little things...

2011-01-12T10:04:00.003Z

Some dental based humour this morning, thanks to xkcd.com

Running

2011-01-11T09:47:00.000Z


Definitely not me - not today...

This morning I laid in bed and thought about running.

On an earlier trip to the bathroom I'd opened the blinds and noted the damp, puddle stained tarmac. I squinted at the grey on grey landscape examining the air for raindrops. It would be nice to explain my failure as the result of weather.

It wasn't raining.

Damn.

I disengaged my phone from its nightly charge and crawled back into bed anyway. The morning routine of Facebook, BBC news and Guardian mobile was over quickly. Predictably the world had changed very little in the eight hours I spent unpluggled. But an informed runner is a better runner...right?

Whatever you have to tell yourself.

Last night I had all the necessary motivation. I located my underused sports bra (although it would probably be easier just to bandage the ladies down). My running shoes were clean and left by the door. I even sourced some bass-heavy house music from my current music teacher and superstar DJ friend. I was ready!

Now I'm frozen with indecision. I'm not tired. I'm in bed because it is the warmest, most comforting place in the flat and leaving it means I have to start my day. Starting my day means deadlines, requirements, patients, lectures and pressure, all of which (along with cold) are repelled by the almost magical qualities of my duvet. Adding running to the morning clearly is not an attractive prospect.

Why must I torture myself? I'm currently at the lowest weight I have been for years. With very little effort on my part (spending my money at Amazon.co.uk rather than Tescos.com). I'm happy with what I see in the full length mirror ~85% of the time. I have a genetically pre-determined tendency to carry weight on my legs not my belly (thanks mum!), which is apparently healthier (subcutaneous rather than visceral fat) but makes rocking a skirt problematic. But I lack fitness. Running for buses reduces me to a hot, sweaty, wheezing mess.

Maybe I'm not built for running?

It's time to get up...

...It's raining!

Kate Nash - Nicest Thing (Animation)

2011-01-10T13:23:00.002Z

I defy you not to fall in love with this video!

A call to men: Tony Porter on TED.com

2011-01-09T13:11:00.001Z

An interesting take on masculinity...

Merry Christmas!!

2010-12-29T13:42:00.000Z

Merry Christmas and a Prosperous 2011 to all!!

I hope you all enjoyed the festivities. I spent Christmas afternoon in bed after spending the morning chucking my guts up from what I can only assume was food poisoning from the night before. Possibly the worst Christmas ever. But it only lasted a couple of days so I'm planning to enjoy the rest of the season.

The Portuguese learning has been a little lax over the holidays and is happening sporadically. I'm formulating resolutions and goals for 2011 and daily Portuguese learning is on the list. Plus a little cultural immersion, food, books and film. This will be yet another year where Amazon continue to bankrupt me. However my feet remain firmly planted in Cuba, so Wednesday night Salsa beats Tuesday night Samba every time!

this is hard

2010-12-20T21:51:00.000Z

In general I'm good at compartmentalising

As long as I have a suitable distraction

Portuguese, Dancing, whatever

But I'm having a hard time tonight.

I feel sick

My chest is tight

I'm choking on swallowed curt one-liners

Nobody to hear them

Tearful

Samba aint easy!

2010-12-08T00:33:00.000Z

I wore a few more clothes than this!

In the spirit of embracing all things Brazillian pre-trip (and because Nayz has been talking it up for months) tonight I checked out Brazilian night at Bar Salsa. Fuelled by cheap Caiparinhas* (check spelling!) I attempted the free samba class.

JOKES!

For future reference, samba is WORK. You wanna know why Brazillian women have such fantastic bums? SAMBA. Good God y'all my legs are killing me. It's so fast, and a hell of a lot of effort, but the most fun I've had at Bar Salsa for a very long time. Without sounding cheesy the music is actually uplifting, it put a smile on my face and an (extra) wiggle in my step.

After the class and a bottle of water to rehydrate we attempted some Forro (pronounced For-ho if you're bad). Forro looks a lot like salsa, but it is very important to realise that it is not. Otherwise you will step on your partners toes. And if your partner is a hot but impatient Brazilian guy, this could be a problem, theoretically.

(Please note my repeated use of the word "attempted". Nayz is awesome and knows what she is doing. I could use some (a lot) work - but it was my first class so I'll allow myself.)

The night continued with a private introduction to Kizomba, a style from the Dominican Republic that I have been meaning to learn for ages . It didn't fit the Brazilian theme but it fit with the music so I thought why not give it a try? I met a guy who does Kizomba lessons in South West London and he taught me the basics. Apparently in Kizomba your hips are supposed to move back and forth and not side to side. This is DIFFICULT if you are a bonafide salsa chick like me, so I'm not even going to pretend that I knew what I was doing. Kizomba is also danced ridiculously closely. Head to head, chest to chest, arm to arm, belly to belly, groin to groin and leg to leg. Usually this would be a huge problem for me, the grinders in Bar Salsa are legendary, but my impromptu teacher didn't have the seedy, crotch thrusting vibe that usually concerns me, and I didn't feel dirty afterwards - progress!

I'll definitely be back next Tuesday - and practicing Samba steps any chance I get!

*This drink consists of lime, sugar and copious amounts of rum

Brasil

2010-12-06T22:42:00.001Z

Maybe I've just picked a language and a country out of the blue, but this week my focus is Brasil.

This is an improvement on my focus last week which was revenge (a dish I rarely find satisfying served at any temperature). Luckily this was short lived.

I want to travel to Brasil this summer as a graduation present to myself. When I'm there I want to be able to speak and understand people, rather than remaining in my English speaking tourist bubble. Hopefully my linguistic genius of a friend will be accompanying me, but relying on someone else to speak for me for a month is not my style. So I'm about to start learning Brazilian Portuguese.

It's an emotional moment for me, with guilt being the prevelent emotion. I started learning Spanish before I went to Cuba and actually managed to speak pidgin Spanish (Spanglish) if you will, by the time I left. Unfortunately 5 years later I have forgotten everything except "hola, que tal". I also recently have been trying to update my year 9 level French, and with the ideal base in the South of France with which to practice, it's pretty embarrassing that my skills remain sub par. Currently I'm a Jill-of-no-trades but I'd like to be master of at least one! And maybe starting something new, where I already enjoy the film, music and dance of a culture will motivate me.

The plan so far is to use a well known language course which is completely speaking and listening focused (the most difficuly parts!) and this should take me 3 months to complete. Based on other peoples' experiences of the course I should be able to understand a local news broadcast when I have finished the 3 months and have a decent conversation. After that it's up to me to maintain and increase my vocabulary and grammar, practice reading and writing and plan my trip!

I have approximately 7 months. It's plenty of time! (*gulp*)

Here goes lesson 1....

Moving day part 3

2010-08-19T23:09:00.000+01:00

Before you scroll down for parts 1 and 2 let me just establish that they do not exist, not even as drafts. Any attempt to search for them will be fruitless and dull.

I moved today into my own little studio flat nearish the river, walking distance from an underground station, cinema and 24 hr tescos and cycling distance from uni (these were important criteria on which the decision process was based).

Today also coincidently marks the start of my descent into brokeness. You may have guessed that the two are related.

I'm hoping that the expense will be worth it - so far my neighbours have shown no psychotic tendances, no antisocial behaviour, and no "in your business" over friendliness. Its peaceful. There is a park opposite the block leaving me no excuse not to get my ass into gear and run. I've definitely been slacking and its beginning to show.

So I'm gonna be keeping my eyes open for money saving deals, scamming dinner invitations off unsuspecting friends and family, and definitely spending every sunday at Mum's for that roast and apple crumble goodness (you see why the running is necessary).

Hope this goes well!

I'm baaaaaack...

2010-08-17T21:59:00.000+01:00

...although since it has been so long I think that it is safe to assume that my return won't be heralded with much pomp and circumstance.

I missed this blog as a tool for venting about the mounting frustrations of life, and celebrating the good things and good people that I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by.

So it is once again operational, when something interesting happens you'll be ~~the first, second,~~ on the list of people that should know :)

nobody is awake to talk me through this

2009-12-10T01:52:00.000Z

I was surfing randomly - as I do, and I came across a USA agony aunt page from a couple of weeks ago called Ask Amy. Ask Amy is syndicated and appears in news papers all over the country, but her advice in the Chicago Tribune has people up in arms.

Read here

In summary a girl wrote in asking if she had been raped. She was drunk at a party in a fraternity house (read drunk college boys' accomodation) and accompanied a guy to his room where she told him that she didn't want to have sex repeatedly. He acknowledged this, but then proceeded to have sex anyway and she attributes her alcohol induced impaired judgement for being unable to realise what was happening before it happened.

Amy replies indicates that she believes that the girl has been raped. But she doesn't state it explicitly. What she does emphasise is the girls poor judgement in being drunk in a frat house and going to the guy's room.

Now Amy is not particularly supportive, comforting or even empathetic. You know the kind of qualities that you'd hope to find in someone that pedals advice for a living.

But my gut feeling is that she is right.

What is troubling me is that I have recently been made aware that agreeing with Amy makes me a "rape apologist", I am in fact "criminalising the victim".

In my head it seems so simple. Two separate but conchordant (did I make that word up?) ideas existing simultaneously and offering no contradiction.

Idea 1

A victim of rape is not to blame for being raped. Yes even the girl, drunk to the point of incoherency, clambering into the back of an unlicensed mini cab alone at 4am (put your judgements aside now), it is not her fault. The blame for rape lies solely with the perpetrator's inability to hear and comprehend that "no means no", their need for power and control, their complete disregard for the autonomy of another human being.

Idea 2

There are things that you can do to to decrease your risk of being raped

This is the idea that has Chicagoans up in arms, because it seems that if there are things that can be done to minimise your risk, and you choose not to do those things, then by not doing them you have increased your risk, henceforth, ergo and thus some of the blame rests with you.

Yes?

NO

Look, a woman has the right to and should be able to parade down the high street in a bikini at 3am without being raped. That doesn't make it an intelligent thing to do because that is not the utopia in which we live. We live in a society where rape happens, unfortunately with increasing regularity. ~~Women (and men)~~ PEOPLE should be taught that nobody has the right to lay hands on them if they don't desire it. But they should also be taught that excessive alcohol drinking lowers their inhibitions and makes them less in control of themselves, that dark alleys have the potential to hold numerous predators, and that sometimes your body can be saying yes even when your mouth is saying no*.

Ahh that last one was hard to type - but be real - it happens - and should be addressed.

So are these ideas more contradictory than they seem? Am I missing something really obvious?

*Seriously though, if you hear a "no", you better get up and go home, whatever else may be happening, protect yourself from being the guy in this scenario.

rocks

2009-12-09T23:00:00.000Z

A wise man once said:

"when people throw rocks at you you can do one of two things. You can throw rocks back at them or you can use each rock and build your castle"

OK so the wise man was less Confuscious and more ol' green eyes himself, Mr Terrence Howard.

Don't judge the source.

Sometimes people need words to live by and these are as good as any other. Actually they're a damn sight better than the con artist Rhonda Byrnes making millions from sharing "The Secret" of positive thinking.

Currently people are throwing rocks. Not big 'wacky races' style rocks. More like pebbles. Small pebbles. Sand if you will. Don't underestimate the irritant properties of sand, when it is found in unfortunate places like swimming costumes or eyes it can burn like a...

... hot thing.

But throwing this sand back at these people, does nothing for me except make my arms tired (poor upper body strength you see). So I need to get on building my castle (see above).

WTH?

2009-12-09T22:03:00.001Z

"Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire"

Now there's a proposition

And all I have to do is...

...hold on

...what now?

And you wonder why I can't stand listening to the radio.

I think that it is fair to say that which is popular is a reflection of the society that elevated it.

Apocalypse now?

fabulosity

2009-11-30T23:14:00.000Z

So much to say and so little time.

I read Precious (Push) and watched Good Hair and both inspired tonnes of thought.
I saw Corinne Bailey Rae's comeback gig at the tabernacle which has received rave reviews - one of them by me since me and my girl D had our comments featured in the Observer review section - woop! Unfortunately the pictures were beyond awful so we kept that quiet.
I watched Lenny Henry in Othello and was pleasantly surprised by his skill. Then a few hours later I was disappointed by his dismissal
I seriously looked into places I can go and live after studying is done. Requirements include heat, but no bugs, english speaking (french at a stretch), tax-free OR somewhere I can do some good.
I got my exam results back and totally surpassed my wildest expectations.

Each of these should be a stand alone post - but I have no tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime - arrrgh!

My obnoxious self centred narssicism has raised it's ugly head - 5/7 sentences start with an "I" and I couldn't care less.

ME, ME, ME gaddammit!!

Everybody needs a day of self love

times are hard!

2009-11-23T16:52:00.000Z

Gold bullion is forever...throw your gold in sky if you feel the vibe!

I know you've seen them

Those TV ads where groomed men speak in capital letters:

"SELL YOUR GOLD, WE'LL BUY YOUR GOLD FOR CASH CASH CASH SELL SELL SELL SELL AAARAGH!!!"

Usually I'd ignore these men for the hype merchants they are, and google advises that this is the best option since a lot of the www.cashmygold. com type domains have scam-like tendencies.

However a few months ago LondonDiva wrote about selling her gold via a more subtle website, and since times are hard I've decided to follow in her footsteps. I'm hoping for about 300 squid - which will go towards replacing my malfunctioning lambda probe (but that's another story).

Will be updating...

today i... (pt 2)

2009-11-11T20:21:00.002Z

Today I news surfed on the crackberry on the train home:

The Quest to Regain Egypt's Antiquities

FINALLY, Egypt is taking back its stuff! The staff at the Egyptian museum in Cairo want the Rosetta Stone back - can you believe that they have a fake version?

I wonder how the British Museum will respond to their request.

I love the peace and serenity of the British Museum. I love the Bloomsbury area of London that it resides in. I love that there is a fantastic comic book store right outside the British museum where I go to reward myself for my intellectual and cultural endeavours.

I do not love that my favourite area of the museum is signposted "Egypt and Africa". Would they like a map? A globe? A slap upside the head maybe? I'm sick of Egypt being treated as a culturally distinct area, seperate from the rest of Africa. It seems that this is the only way that the world can acknowledge the advanced nature of a civilistation that was ancient to the ancient greeks and romans! Damn shame that it was on the same continent those black folk came from.

**rant over**

Taxpayers helped Alex Salmond to treat dentist

This one was sent to me by a fellow dental student avoiding revision as something we can aspire to when we qualify. To paraphrase - a scottish MP (Alex) has got himself into a bit of trouble after treating his dentist and his wife to a £1,400 meal and VIP tickets to a pop concert event on the taxpayer's dime.

So as an occasional tax payer I am incensed, but on the other hand, Alex had just had root canal treatment the week before. Unless you have felt the hot throbbing ache of an infected tooth you may not understand the gratitude that some patients feel to their dentists post treatment. Next time hopefully that gratitude will come from his own pocket.

Back to revision - seriously this time

almost there...

2009-11-11T19:57:00.000Z

Thanks to God, Allah, Krishna, Jehovah, Thor, Ra, Yemaya, The Flying Spaghetti Monster and/ or ___insert your deity of choice___

I'm almost through exam season.

Technically I should be going over notes for the last paper tomorrow - but I'm taking a break to eat Maryland cookies (yum) and catch up on my favourite blogs.

I haven't left my house to do something enjoyable for weeks. Eva, the eternal homebody is sick of her home, her room and her bed - I never thought that it could happen!

Exam season has been good to me so far. With no wish to tempt fate, so far things are progressing adequately.

Not well?

Not well by any stretch of the imagination. If I had been prepared to put in the necessary work, a distinction would have been imminent. At the moment I'm hoping for a merit, I think I've passed, I think. The thinking is driving me nuts. But it's almost over!

In other news, the chef from one of the best Caribbean restaurants in London (if not the whole of the UK) has moved and opened his own restaurant in Canary Wharf.

Check it out here. This is where we'll be wining and dining Mum for her birthday next weekend and she has no idea. If you check out the restaurant you'll realise that its naming was an exercise in vanity. But believe me when I tell you that this guy's ego deserved to be stroked. I went to his restaurant in Brick Lane for my birthday and never wanted to leave.

Perfect cocktails and perfect food

My only peeve was that the menu was full of typos (grammar nazi reporting for service), but hopefully that has been rectified. If anyone has already tried this restaurant let me know what you thought.

Back to revision... wish me luck

i do stupid things

2009-11-07T01:15:00.000Z

that's it - that's all i have to say - i do stupid things and tonight I did another one. boyyyy i'll regret this in the morning...

first post of November

2009-11-05T20:14:00.001Z

Hmm so I think we can all agree that I am failing in my mission to keep this current and up to date.

HOWEVER

I would like to place the blame firmly at the door of the bitch-ass exams that are taking place next week, revision for which has absolutely destroyed any social schedule I may have had. I'm not ready yet, but for some reason The Fear has yet to hit me. I'm not sure if you know about The Fear. It's that moment prior to exams that halts you in your casual slow rolling steps, and makes you think "SH***********T I have exams in ___ days/ weeks" (please fill as appropriate). The Fear usually causes that final burst of intense revision that gets you through the exams.

My exams are next week.

I have yet to feel The Fear.

I'm a little concerned. Usually it kicks in about a week before. But I have 3 days until exam number 1 and so far I'm feeling a little complacent. Complacent people fails exams. Retakes are in January - something to look forward to over X-mas I guess.

This is all very pessimistic - not like me at all.

To make myself feel better I have started the list of things I can do once revision is over:

I've booked VIP tickets for screen 11 at the odeon to watch the exploitation flick This is it - I missed out on the concert, I want to see what my £80+ would have got me. Don't think I lack sentimentality, MJ's death was tragic (and possibly homicide - that doctor is going to get shanked in jail). But this film has nothing to do with missing Michael and everything to do with AEG recouping their huge financial losses. So in the spirit of exploitation I will be sitting in VIP (extra money to sit on a balcony).
Learn French (again) I have started and stopped and restarted and given up and now I'm starting again. And this time the language of romance will stick. I want to have dreams in french and watch La Haine without the subtitles. (incidently, some1 still has that DVD and at some point I want it back). To be honest I want to serenade Thierry Henry in his native language - at least I'm honest about my motives.
Learn Guitar. This one was inspired by the return of Mrs Bailey Rae - whom I love and admire massively (and who I will be seeing on 23rd November at an intimate sold out gig at the Tabernacle - *excitement*!). But I've wanted to learn an instrument for ages. When it comes to music I'm a jack of all trades but master of none. I have a problem sticking with stuff - a typical gemini trait if you're into that stuff. So I hope that by the time I graduate I will be an insoucient french speaking, guitar playing, natty dreaded, salsa dancing dentist.
SALSA! I've missed you my old friend. Back to friday nights at Bar Salsa is a must. I also want to check out the moves of the city boys since they're holding classes in Abacus now on Mondays. It could be interesting. I hope I don't bump into Babyface though. It's where I met him and I know he likes to frequent it for after work drinks.
Study. Yeah I know this one is a little counter-productive (taking my mind off work with more work) But I actually enjoy studying. I started some reseach before revision hit that will make my academic CV pop, so I should probably finish it at some point before I have to start applying.

Yeah thats pretty much it - life starts again on 12th November - and I may even blog some more too! YAY - I actually do feel better.

Back to revision

sick sad world

2009-10-26T17:21:00.000Z

When it comes to humanity I like to think that there is very little that will shock me. I watch the news and have to numb myself to the suffering because in my current mood (I'm in a funk) it would overwhelm me. Today I was reading the news on my Crackberry (woop woop) and read something that just left me speechless.

Check out the link here

CNN International

In Summary, a man is currently on trial, for stabbing a pregnant woman, Marwa El-Sherbini, IN A COURTROOM!

WTF?

How the hell did that happen?

Apparently this dysenteric individual was originally in court charged with defamation against Marwa. She had asked if her son could use the swing which his niece was playing on and he unleashed a torrent of racial and religious abuse. She sued him and won, but apparently he was able to enter and remain in the courtroom while in possession of a 7 inch knife, with which he stabbed her EIGHTEEN TIMES in front of her 3 year old child.

I feel physically sick.

funk

2009-10-13T22:18:00.000+01:00

I'm in a funky mood.

Not in a good way.

Not in a migraine skanking kind of way

I'm feeling moody. The kind of moody that Lindt chocolate usually helps to alleviate. But I'm avoiding dairy for the month - for various reasons.

I've been a bitch to at least 2 people today and been called cold-hearted by one of them in return. He's irrelevent - and slightly insane, but it's still not nice to hear. I wonder if he'll realise that my heart is a furnace, just the exterior is cold and difficult to crack.

You know like cadbury's eclairs? LOL yeah I said it.

I'm just in a mood. Deepest indigo mood. If there was a candle in my soul it would be a pinprick in a void. I'm just grouchy. I always related with oscar the grouch more than elmo. Oscar lived in a freaking trash can - of course he was miserable - why would you expect him to be otherwise? Idiot.

Love you oscar

Hopefully my mood will lift tomorrow - fingers crossed my loves - I'm going to see the cutie with the dreads in crystal palace, I'm due a retwist.

CORINNE IS BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!

2009-10-05T20:45:00.001+01:00

OMG I love this woman. I love her. Her eponymously titled first album was the soundtrack to my life for at least a year and it still gets heavy rotation.

I will be on the look out for tickets HARD! I'm sure she'll be doing some gigs real soon. Any1 gets any info PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

As I said on facebook, anyone found to be witholding information will be swiftly disowned

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2009/oct/04/corinne-bailey-rae-interview

in other news...

2009-10-03T21:48:00.000+01:00

In 2 days it will be 3 months since my locs journey started. So far I am wishing that I did this YEARS ago.

It's so easy!

Retwisting myself every couple of weeks. Going to see Strictly Dreadz in Crystal Palace when I'm feeling lazy. I think they suit me. I haven't seen any pics with me and my locs in them yet but the mirror seems happy enough. I am currently having some moisture issues due to not washing my hair as often as I used to, but I might have to start spritzing - fun fun.

But yes I am a big big fan of this no-nonsense,no-fuss hair. Long live the dreadz!

(update in 3 months time)

salsa!

2009-10-03T21:34:00.001+01:00

I learnt to dance in Cuba. That's the first thing. After 5 weeks of daily lessons 1-on-1 with my cuban teacher (yum!) I was pretty damn good on my feet.

To begin with, my teacher despaired of me because I couldn't be led, I wanted to dance my way and turn my way and screw whatever his body was saying. It was completely unconscious, but I am naturally stubborn and do tend to think that it is 'my way or the A1'. Nowadays I can be led, but only by a strong lead. If your arms are flimsy and weak then don't even bother, I will just dance by myself next to you and save you the trouble. I think that could work out as a strong relationship metaphor (I'll submit to you if I think you are worthy type of thing) but that's another day.

So Wednesday night me, the PhD and the Latina went to bar Salsa! (their exclamation not mine) and oh my word, I didn't realise how much I had missed it. The PhD lacks confidence, a couple years ago we went regularly for a few months but we lapsed so today her and her cousin did the beginners class. Me and the latina did the Improvers class and the rust began to show. The class was a fiasco, I was that hopeless one that no1 wants to dance with.

We had drinks during the second dance classes, treated by a gorgeous short dreadlocked Kenyan guy called Oscar. He dressed sharp! However after the latina told him that she was married and that I was some salsa hussy he swiftly disappeared.

(I'm not a salsa hussy btw, but it is not the first time that I have heard it, I just dance with pretty much anyone and make friends quickly. I feel like in that environment, where its very much geared to guys asking girls to dance - girls need to not be so picky. Its a dance not marriage!)

So dancewise I wasn't feeling the love on Wednesday (boooo) BUT I did accept a hand from a guy the PhD was refusing hard. Not pretty at all, BUT MY GOD, the man could dance! I was getting twirled all over the floor, my skirt was flying high (thank God for tights) and I was keeping up with him! That dance was worth the whole night, I absolutely felt like I was flying!

More salsa in my life! Check!

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

listening

2009-09-19T00:43:00.000+01:00

People tend to talk to me. I don't really invite it, but something about me leads people to believe that I am trustworthy and non-judgemental. The first is true, the second, if I'm honest, is more dependant on my mood.

A few months ago, when I went through one of my miserable loner phases I became sick of being everyone's confidante. I found that those who would bend my ear nightly, were a lot less receptive to hearing my problems. I clammed up, stopped answering my phone and sent a big middle finger to the world.

I'm over it now, I think

I'm put in a position of trust daily and today is no exception. And its a special thing, not something I should dismiss lightly.
Today made me realise that.

celebrity adoption

2009-09-14T21:41:00.000+01:00

Elton John wants a baby

Some of you may already be aware of the low opinion I have of the celebrity 'rent a ~~black~~ foreign baby' fad that is going on. Madonna has been adopting "orphans" with living parents (it's amazing what doors money can open), and... ermm...

(Angelina and Brad are exempt - beauty opens even more doors than money so with beauty and money, they are pretty much vindicated of any crime!)

Ok so far only Madonna has really vexed me...

ANYWAY

The point was, I was watching that new BBC show, where Ian Wright is flanked by 2 Y-list blondes and they were chatting about Elton John's failed adoption attempt in Ukraine.

Firstly - Breaking news! Celeb finds orphans in Europe! Soon they may realise that there are even orphans in the UK...

...nah I'm overstretching, my mistake.

Elton John went to perform in the Ukraine at an orphanage for the Elton John Aids Foundation, and fell in love with baby Lev whom he subsequently tried to adopt. He was shot down because in Ukraine there are 2 adoptions rules

Rule 1: the age difference between an adoptive parent and a child must be 45 years or less

Rule 2: foreign citizens who are single have no right to adopt children

Elton John's civil partnership with David somebodyorother is not recognised in the Ukraine.

Discriminatory? Maybe. I'm assuming that according to this rule, a male-female couple who were unmarried would also be unable to adopt - which levels the playing field unless gay people aren't afforded the opportunity to get married in Ukraine in which case yes, it is discriminatory.

But Rule 1 makes perfect sense

I'm not sure how accurate this is because google is not playing the game tonight but allegedly

"If you were born in 1950, your life expectancy at birth was only 68 years"

Elton John is 62.

Admittedly he will benefit from modern advances in healthcare and having the best health insurance money can buy (money, again! That's some good stuff!), but it's not really looking good. Seriously, if 60 year olds were supposed to procreate, breasts would win the fight against gravity, there would be no need for any little blue pills and fertility wouldn't decrease with age (or stop altogether as is the case with most women).

Elton, how about instead of the Madonna approach (using your fame and fortune to bypass the rules of a country), you fund the orpanage so that Lev can grow up surrounded by his culture and learn to help himself and other orphans like him.

How about you give some money to one of those charities that have adverts with music that tugs at your heart strings and lil black and asian kids looking after their 10 siblings as the voiceover tells you that 2p a day could send lil Anita to school. There is SO MUCH he could do with his power, wealth and influence and if he decides to be unoriginal and flaunt the laws of a country I will be very disappointed.*

*lol at the irrelevance of my disappointment to Elton*

strictly fabulous

2009-09-13T18:46:00.001+01:00

The black hair salon

The bane of every black woman's existance at least once in their life. For those of us who reject the creamy crack (relaxer) the salon can hold even more horror.

I'v had my share of negative experiences. A few years ago I wantd my hair pressed and was feeling too lazy to contort myself in such away as to be able to do the back of my head properly. So I went to a salon in Lewisham. I won't name and shame, suffice to say that they call themselves a "natural hair" salon. Natural my back foot! My hair and scalp were burnt so badly in the straightening process that my scalp had scabs and my hair broke terribly in the following weeks. Later I learnt that my hair is naturally anti-heat and breaks in response to it, but that was the worst it had ever been.

After I realised that frying my hair wasn't a legitmate styling option unless I wanted to be bald by 30 I went back to braids. When I was younger extensions gave me the l'oreal hair flick I had always desired...

..."I was WORTH it!!"

But this second time around, all the excess hair felt heavy and alien. My scalp rebelled with an army of flakes and although I received compliments I didn't feel that they were my due. This was also when I realised the fragility of my hairline. When I undid the braids after a month (ahem, or more) I noticed a hell of a lot of my hairline being removed along with the Kanekalon. To avoid my hairline following the same fate as that of Stevie Wonder's I implored the hairdressers to "tek time", be gentle, don't pull the hair so tight and don't put so much hair on my head. This was when I learnt that hairdressers suffer with a condition known as selective deafness. The prevailing symptom is when, in a salon atmosphere, basic instructions from a client sound like white noise and are ignored. This experience occured in salons across south-east london.

My response?
To boycott salons completely - anything that I couldnt do myself I'd just have to live without.

When I started my locs I knew how to retwist, but for some reason I couldn't find the time to sit down and do it. My twists were floating on a sea of regrowth and I knew something had to be done.

And here we come to the point of this post. I found a salon the turns stereotype on its head

Strictly Dreadz in Crystal Palace renewed my faith in the black hair salon.

See why after the jump

I've already recommended a friend and she left raving about it as well. It's probably due to the ~~sexy Bajan owner~~ refreshing, positive atmosphere. I loved it. The place is new (I think) and the layout is more functional than anything else. Space is minimal but it manages to work without feeling claustrophobic. There were two styling chairs in front of full length mirrors, and all the other important stuff was fitted in, sink for hair washing, hairdryers, blah blah blah.

To begin with I was seen on time

**gasp**

Yes I know - on time!

There was always somebody working on my hair. No stops for snacks, chats, or to finish off somebody else, my hair was retwisted from start to finish. Everybody just seemed happy to be there - probably because unlike most salons they weren't forced to spend their entire Saturday there.

To be completely honest I started writing this ages ago and I'm only just posting it today so the detail is a little sparse, but I'll be returning for a retwist in a few weeks - and I can't wait!

Visit the website here

Caster Semenya

2009-09-13T12:18:00.002+01:00

I am seething over how this girl has been and continues to be ripped apart by the media.

Read the Guardian's latest here

She is 18 years old and has been repeatedly and publicly and internationally humiliated to the point where now she has had to go into hiding.

18! Think back. What would you have done at 18 if you were told that you had internal sex organs of the opposite gender? Now what would you do if your whole family knew? Friends? College/ university? Random people on the street that you have never met having intimate

Although yesterday I heard that she definitely had Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome*, the IAAF have yet to publish any results regarding Caster's gender. Apparently the Australian press got a lil trigger happy and decided to let the unverified cat out of the bag early.

South Africa seem to be standing behind their athlete and have threatened "world war 3" should she be banned from competing. I hope that they call for an investigation into the privacy measures (or lack thereof) of the IAAF. They would be well within their rights to do so.

The IAAF have said that they won't be releasing their conclusions until the board meets in mid-November.

*What is Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome?

The default gender setting for developing mammals is female unless there is a high level of testosterone present, usually the result of a Y chromosome. In AIS the person is chromosomally male (XY), but their body's physiology is insensitive to the effects of testosterone, therefore they follow the default gender setting and to all intents and purposes appear female. Most people with this condition don't find out until they have a gynae exam, usually to check out their infertility.

There are other conditions where chromosomal sex, physiological sex and social sex don't coincide, I think a wiki search is in order...

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

What a week...

2009-09-13T11:39:00.003+01:00

I'm lying in bed, my first lie-in of the week and I am enjoying the hell out of it. The past week was my first full week back at uni since the summer and I had forgotten the mind numbing exhaustion that late nights and early mornings can induce. Next week is all about the 10.30pm bedtime, let's see how that feels.

It has been an alright weekend I guess. A lil disappointing. Friday night me and my girl D went out to dinner at one of the jerk restaurants on Wardour Street to discuss life, love and the human condition (as you do). Firstly, the food was uniformly dry, like surface of mars dry - there may have once been moisture, but it was long gone. I didn't even know it was possible to dry out mac and cheese like that and I had been looking forward to it all day! Boooo! Secondly the service was crap, but, well, you know the stereotype so whatever - no tip for you.

Anywho, I digress. After our conversation covered life and work it turned to men. Now D is confused as hell because she has a friend who is sending her mixed up and confused signals. D's friend, who she likes, recently has started to kiss her. Unfortunately this friend is so laid back that he is near comatose and so she has no idea what else to expect. Add to this, that he not a big talker and "I don't know" is a standard answer to most things. Irritating, no? Originally when I first heard about this guy I was backing team J hard! Now he just sounds lazy. Booo to laziness, D deserves better.

D's story was just another addition to the foolishness that I have been suffering from all week! I call it Y chromosome foolishness because yes, it has been gender specific.

Two examples after the jump:

Example 1

I decided to walk half way home from work last week. August was health month but I have since been neglecting my body so I walked. It was pleasant, through the park, past the gorgeous houses of the other half (oh how they live) then across the road to get the bus that would take me home. I was good, I usually just take my life in my hands and jay walk, but today I went to the zebra crossing...

...and crossed...

...and almost died as some idiot in a silver BMW swerved around me on the crossing and continued on his speedy way.

Jackass

Obviously in too much of a hurry to let me finish crossing. But not, it seems, in too much of a hurry to pull over further down the road and try and talk to me! The g forces he was experiencing must have affected his brain somewhat, because that is damn foolish behaviour.

and Example 2

Around 3 weeks ago, my ex took great pleasure in telling me about the perfection that was his new girlfriend. She was beautiful, she was 'down for him', even informed me that the sex was good, all without prompting. I know he was itching for a reaction so, being the quite contrary girl that I am, I smiled and wished him good luck. After some deep soul searching I realised l wasn't being contrary, I was being honest. I wished him all the luck in the world. Which I guess means I'm properly over him! (woop woop!).

So why is it that after 3 weeks of a facebook status change - he is already getting itchy feet?

3 weeks?

Peter Andre and Jordan lasted longer than 3 weeks!

You look foolish.

*Prays that Sunday marks the start of a new sense filled week*

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Test blog

2009-09-12T14:55:00.002+01:00

The letter writer is taking me to the jazz cafe tonight. We're going to see Laura Izibor (who is his alleged future wife). I've never heard her sing before but I'm avoiding a youtube search. Sometimes it's nice to be surprised.

So far the letter writer is ticking many boxes, too many in fact, he's freaking me out a little. I'm also not used to his free and easy and frequent and honest expression of emotions. We don't do expression in my family, we're pretty controlled for the most part. And getting emotions out of most of the guys I've dated in the past is like wringing the proverbial blood out of the proverbial stone! I call it emotional retardedness (politically incorrect I know) and I also possess it in spades.

Incidently I'm typing this and hopefully posting it from my new crackberry which is already exerting it's addictive influence over me. So please excuse typos and a lack of pics, it is a work in progress

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

FLIPin heck

2009-09-06T00:34:00.004+01:00

not the greatest pic, but jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez, too fly!!!!

What a fab night!

To be honest, after making me sit through the drivel that was Final Destination yesterday, Nadz really did owe me something good.

She delivered Motown, in a park, for free. All things I love.

I am pretty sure I have seen the show twice before, but it's motown, so repetition isn't a problem. Shimiing and shaking under the stars at the front of the crowd would have been good enough, but we were blessed by the inclusion of Flip in the cast of the show.

Lord have mercy

Flip was fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine

Flip made us both stand up and take notice. Flip salsaed through 'Fiesta', and back flipped across the stage. Flip made my heart beat a little faster every time he sang. He was cute, a lil skinny, but had the kind of voice and smile that makes a girl's mind wander. I might have even drooled slightly. Weirdly, he also reminded me (and nadz) of my ex, and really made me want to drunk dial (minus the alcohol) but since he is now seeing someone (grrr) I exercised the remanants of my self control and put down the phone.

Well done me!

Jeez it's been a while since I felt some pure, unadulterated lust.

Good stuff!

french women are fabulous

2009-09-03T18:57:00.002+01:00

Really? Are they?

I've been to Paris a few times - and yes the women had a certain je ne sais quoi. But on my drive through France recently and spending time in the country, french women seemed to be the same as all others. Maybe it would help if I understood the language...

Anyway read this, it's interesting

How you can be a femme fatale

Eight legged freaks

2009-09-02T23:43:00.002+01:00

Yesterday there was a spider in my bed.

It was large, and black, with more legs than anybody really needs. It scuttled up my sheet in that disconcerting way that spiders have when they move quickly.

I employed my usual spider response

Namely the 'scream and run'

It's very effective when the spider is somewhere that you don't mind not being. But this one was in my bed. By the pillow. Under the duvet. Where I wanted to be.

Yesterday I employed a new technique.

The 'little brother rescue'

He's amazing, he's taller than me and an absolute skinny beanpole. But he handles spiders with skill.

So today I dedicate my night of uninterupted sleep to my brother. THANK YOU!

***there was supposed to be a picture - but it scared me so just use your imagination***

there ain't no party like a HOUSE PARTY!

2009-09-02T23:03:00.003+01:00

I am aware that I am a lil late to the party.

Actually if I'm honest I am the houseguest that turned up at 6am after the police raided and just in time to help the clean up crew.

I'm late.

This weekend I watched the classic 1990's film House Party...

...FOR THE FIRST TIME

Like I said - late.

My only excuse is that I was only 5 when it came out and I have parents that severely restricted my viewing habits up to the age of 15, by which time I was pretty book smart, but I missed all the classics of my generation.

I have been asked by the friend that introduced me to House Party to make a list of all the classics that I have yet to see. This could be embarrassing since right now I class my self as a (lapsed) cinephile.
(Lapsed because I now work on Orange Wednesdays - freaking sacriledge!)

The List (black films for now)

Boomerang (and most of Eddie's films)
Jungle Fever
Poetic Justice
House Party 2 (and 3 and 4)
New Jack City
Malcolm X (which is sitting under my bed as we speak -my cheeks are shame coloured)

Have I missed anything?

Please let me know - the plan is to have a movie weekender and catch up.

I also missed a LOT of sci-fi and horror classics. I'm sure they'll get their own list soon.

For the record, I loved Kid, he was such a clueless cutie (Play not so much). And this may be one of the few films I like Martin Lawrence in - he cracked me up. I still don't like him in Bad Boys - sue me. Darryl Mitchell, who I recognised from Channel 4 day-time tv show Ed, was in there as Chill. I couldn't place the face initially so I googled him (as I do) and found that in 2001 he was paralysed from the waist down (paraplegic) hence him being in a wheelchair on Ed is not acting. Tragic.

Tisha (from My Wife and Kids?) also starred. And hot DAMN, her body was freaking inspirational!! Her lil round face belied the wash board abs and toned legs and reminded me that it is time to start the winter gym attempts in the hope that next summer I can look bikini ready (this summer I most definitely was NOT).

it has been a while

2009-08-20T23:42:00.001+01:00

Yeah I kind of fell off this posting thing in August.

I get the month of August as my summer holiday and I have been working harder during the last few weeks than I do when I'm at uni!

So posts have been slow.

Might pick up soon, check in occasionally...

letters

2009-08-02T23:44:00.005+01:00

I met a man, who leaves long handwritten rambling letters hidden in the library for me to find.

It's the stuff literary love affairs are made of.

I'm not sure I know what to do with him - I'm not used to romance.

jamaica jamaica

2009-07-28T10:36:00.003+01:00

If you know me, you may be aware that my family is Jamaican. I'm 2nd gen British born, but the connection with JA is still there. My grandparents and a lot of other older members of my family who came to the UK to make some cash are now back home, enjoying life in the sun. I haven't been back for a while. 8 years it must be now, that's ages! I didn't think it was so long.

I am most definitely aware that Jamaica has some issues (putting it mildly), but until recently all I'd experienced was the natural beauty of the island and the warmth of the people.

Then my uncle got shot

http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/letters/html/20090726T230000-0500_156193_OBS_NO_DESIRE_TO_VISIT.asp

Click the link to read how my uncle was shot execution style in the temple (or neck, depending on reports). No money was taken (he had $60,000 JAM on him, which is approximately £410 - damn that exchange rate!) but his phone was stolen. Allegedly he had received a phone call asking him to come to the bar and the theory is that the phone was taken to stop the police tracking the murderer.

Now I'm not really looking for sympathy. My uncle lived in New York, I'd only met him about 3 times in my life, but this situation is fucked up! Every family member is repeating that he was such a calm, quiet person. Never in trouble with anyone. The W_____'s are in shock!

So now I'm hearing that the plot is getting thicker - but since it is bad to pass on gossip I will hold my tongue for now.

RIP Uncle Michael

Jamaican authorities need to catch the animal who killed you. An island whose main income is tourism CANNOT have this level of lawlessness continue unchecked.

blockage!

2009-07-22T10:24:00.003+01:00

I used the "block person" option on facebook for the first time today. The same person was also msn messenger blocked + deleted (a feature which is used with increasing regularity) and would also have been deleted from my phone except I would like to know when they are calling so I can ignore it - no surprises.

Can you block phone numbers? How?

It was cathartic. And it was long over due.

I can't control the negative energy of others, but actually inviting it into my life repeatedly? That's stupid.

And today I'm feeling smart.

the orishas

2009-07-19T21:15:00.004+01:00

While travelling in Cuba years ago I was introduced to Santeria. Santeria is to Cuba what Voudoun (Voodoo) is to Haiti, and Candomble is to Brazil.

West africans forcibly transported across the Atlantic brought their beliefs, languages, traditions and Gods with them to the new world.

But the beliefs were beaten from them. Languages were lost as families and clans were seperated, and severe penalties inflicted on those not speaking the language of their oppressors. Traditions became hidden rituals or ignored.

Through it all the gods remain.

Kind of

Santeria was hidden during slavery by combining the gods (orishas) with Catholic saints. According to wikipedia this is called "syncretism"

"the attempt to reconcile disparate or contrary beliefs, often while melding practices of various schools of thought"

Each orisha was melded with a corresponding catholic saint, often with equivalent characteristics

For example
Oshun "goddess of love, feminine beauty and art" became Our Lady of Charity
Elegua "the trickster god of crossroads and opportunity" became St Anthony (patron saint of roads and gates)
Ogun "god of war and iron" became St Peter (patron of war)
Shango "also a warrior god strongly associated with thunder, lightning and male sexuality" became St Barbara (patron of thunder, lightning and fire)

Last night I dreamed of Eleggua. There was a song I heard people singing along the Malecon in Havana which repeated his name and last night that song was the soundtrack to my dream. I have no idea who sings it and I haven't thought about it in years.

The dream was simple. I walked along the Malecon at night, past Friday night revellers drinking rum from the bottle and dancing under the stars, the ocean crashing on the rocks below them. The details of the landscape were sharp, but my companion's face is hazy. He was young, shorter than me and ran in circles around me, distracting me and tripping me. There is no doubt in my mind who this was, in that specific certainty that is only found in dreams.

It's odd that he should come to mind now, especially when in the past few days many little things have been going wrong. Maybe these events triggered my memory subconsciously, or maybe the dream served to show that Eleggua the trickster is causing trouble in my life. Eleggua isn't evil, this isn't the same as dreaming that I walked with "the devil" (in whose existence I still doubt). Eleggua transcends good and evil. In my mind he resembles the duality of human nature, however I would prefer if, in my dream, he was more playful, less vindictive.

I need to learn more...

a message to the leering and lascivious...

2009-07-10T21:32:00.004+01:00

...you make me hate summer.

I found myself this morning dressing as if donning armour for battle.

Why?

Because in sultry south London, a woman's body becomes community property in summer. The level of community ownership is directly proportional to the physical assets that said woman possesses and I possess said assets.

So my message to all of you optical sex-pests that want to mentally undress me when I leave the house:

Stop the ogling!

A quick appreciative glance is flattering.

A 5 minute stare is not only not flattering, it's borderline harassment.

I actually can't take it. It makes me ridiculously self conscious, hence my need to dress like a centurion on occasion.

*rant over*

beyonce - sweet dreams

2009-07-09T07:51:00.002+01:00

Is Bey becoming a parody of herself?

This what happens when an artist has no legitimate competition in their field. They start repeating the same old tired-ass moves.

So far I've noticed

The Lace-front Flick

The Shimmy

The Snake Walk

and the ever popular Booty-pop

Watch Bey's new video and see how many you can spot!

the bucket list - part 1

2009-07-09T06:56:00.003+01:00

I've been thinking about my Bucket List. The list of things that I want to do before I die. Some of the list is noble, some academic, some sexual, some down right ridiculous.

This is one of the ridiculous ones

I'm going to be nude in public.

I don't know when, and today I feel that I should probably do a little more exercise before I execute this particular list item but it will happen, in my lifetime.

Just to clarify, I don't intend to wear a mac and surprise people in the park - because that is illegal (and just plain wrong), I also don't plan on running across a sporting field of any discipline, since the only place I want this to be remembered is my head, I don't need any photographic evidence.

But I feel that this is important. For a girl who has been at odds with her body since the onset of puberty, this could be the ultimate show of acceptance of her physique.

I read a book last night called "Naturally Slim, without dieting". It's pretty old and has been on a shelf downstairs for longer than I can remember. I assume that my mum bought it back in the day, because my dad is one of those irritating people who can (and does) eat a mountain of food without gaining an ounce of weight. This book, which looks at slimming from a psychological perspective predictably has a chapter on loving and appreciating your body whatever weight, size, cellulite level that you may be at. A generic but positive message to be sure. What did interest me was a quote from a group therapy participant that the author had hosted.

"I know that these legs look like they could kick-start a Boeing, but they are my legs, and they are fine. They walk when I want them to walk, they sit when I need them to sit. They are my legs, so they are fine"

This quote headed a chapter called Thunder Thighs and Fattism: Accepting yourself

Isn't it a breath of fresh air among all the literature targeted at my age group and gender?

Be slim

10 ways to drop 10 pounds

Magic anti-cellulite cure

Anti-aging

Anti-weight

Anti-fat

Anti-life!

Just be happy with the body that you have - it works, it is functional, stop abusing it by starving it, over (or under) working it and not taking care of it.

Acceptance of the body you have doesn't negate the quest for "the body beautiful". For everyone there is room for improvement and loving the body you have now doesn't stop you from being aware of its faults. It just means that you'll be able to deal with them in a manner that doesn't leave you hating yourself. Check out these internal responses to being out of breath when running for a train:

Person 1: OMG I can't breathe! I'm dying!

*train leaves platform*

Person1 : you fat bitch, if you hurried up and lost all that disgusting fat you might have caught your train and not been late for work again.

and next....

Person 2: OMG I can't breathe! I'm dying!

*train leaves platform*

Person 2: ah crap I'm going to be late, I should do some exercise so that the next time this happens I'll be prepared

Guess which one hates what they see in the mirror every morning?

OK that was obvious - but I hope you see where I'm coming from.

So back to the point of this post. Once I am able to love my body, flaws and all, I will be naked in public. Probably on a beach somewhere, where everyone else is naked too. This isn't a sexual thrill seeking mission. I'm not an exhibitionist. But the naked form, especially the female form has become sexualised to the point where being naked must mean you're about to have sex and I think that is such a shame. Maybe part of this is a one woman mission to take back my body from the leering and lascivious public and enjoy it in an asexual environment.

Whatever the reasoning - Nude in Public - It's on the Bucket List!

the michael jackson memorial - a breakdown

2009-07-07T19:15:00.005+01:00

This is just a Breakdown of the events at Michael's memorial ceremony. Along with additional commentary from Badmind Eva, over whom I have no control.

Mariah was on stage earlier. I love you girl and your tribute was heartfelt.

Badmind Eva says: Mariah's ill, choked up with grief, or losing her voice. I hope its one of the first two

19:15: Stevie Wonder just finished singing to Michael Jackson's coffin. Best performance of the night so far. The pain in his voice was palpable

Badmind Eva says: When men with long hair have foreheads that start mid-scalp, they really should consider relieving the rest of the follicles of their duties

19:17: Some basketball players are discussing there experiences with MJ. I think it's Magic Johnson and someone else. Sweet memories. Who knew Michael ate KFC? But he is right, as sad as this moment is, this is his life that we are celebrating.

****update: LA Lakers players, apparently***

19:21: Jennifer Hudson is on stage. She owns that mic! Singing Will You Be There? One of my favourite songs by Michael, but I'm not feeling this performance. I guess when the original is so ingrained in your consciousness, it's hard to appreciate alternatives.

They have Michael's vocals for the spoken verse - beautiful

19:25: Al Sharpton speaks, the voice of a true preacher. He looks like he presses his hair?

"There's nothing that can't be done if we raise our voice as one" - shown on the screen behind the tributes

So far I think this is the perfect antidote to BET's memorial fiasco

19:33: John Mayer on guitar - Human Nature - so subtle and understated. He's making those strings sing.

"why, why? Tell them that it's Human Nature"

The backing singers joining in on the chorus, still subtle, still poised

That really was amazing.

19:37: Brooke Shields is expected

Oh I didn't realise all the brothers are wearing a glove. What a nice touch?

19:38: Brooke Shields is absolutely stunning, she is only just holding back the tears. Her tribute is making me cry, the sincerity is absolute. This is hands down the best tribute so far. These memories are so personal, so warm, so moving.

19:47: Jermaine is on stage singing "Smile". I have no idea how he is managing to sing. At my grandmother's funeral I could barely breathe for crying, let alone sing. His voice is barely breaking. How is he holding it together? How? My heart is breaking for him. His vocal similarity to Michael is breathtaking. So very brave of him.

19:51: Now the children of Martin Luther King are speaking. The son, emulates his father's style exactly. Both are obviously great orators.

They say the sky is the limit, and to me that is really true - background screen

apparently usher is on soon.

19:59: Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee - also a strong speaker discussing all the humanitarian work that Michael did, some that we may not have even heard of. Michael's life contains so many aspects that should be emulated, to "make the world a better place"

"Michael fought the good fight"

Resolution 600 - a Congressional resolution honouring Michael Jackson's humanitarian legacy - what a tribute!

Badmind Eva: This woman can chat na man?? Hurry up! Politicians *shakes head*

20:07: USHER! singing gone too soon. I forgot usher was actually vocally talented. His recent music hasn't showcased this at all. Usher is the 2nd celeb to breakdown and cry on stage (after Brooke Shields). He owes a lot to Michael, his style especially is a tribute in itself.

20:12: Video of "Who's loving you" Jackson 5 - I love that purple hat

20:13: Smokey Robinson (who wrote the previous song).

Badmind Eva says: how is it that Smokey looks younger now, than he did when he was young? I know black doesn't crack, but seriously Smokey - I KNOW you had help!

Smokey is discussing the soul, the passion and the blues in Michael's voice as a child that belied his years.

20:19: NO WAY! Shaheen from Britain's Got Talent is on here! Singing his heart out. This must be absolutely mindblowing for him! BUT it is glaringly obvious that even his talented self is a little out of his depth. He didn't compare to Michael Jackson as a child. Simon Cowell's eyes are spitting dollar sounds right now. Michael watched Britain's Got Talent and admired Shaheen and asked him to perform with him in London. Mind blowing. He's only 12!

20:23: Kenny Ortega? Not sure who he is

Presenting a performance from the THIS IS IT tour rehearsals!

*exciting*

Oh its a live performance. I though it was video footage. Singing we are the world, I think this is the finale. All famous attendees are on stage. Harmonising.

The introduction to Heal the world, the child's voice was a perfect ending. Heal the world

Fin

20:34: I'm obviously too damn fast for my own good - Jermaine offers his thanks on behalf of his family. All are on stage.

Janet looks fabulous

Badmind Eva says: what in the name of all that is holy is on LaToya's head?

The kids, Prince, Paris and Blanket look so comforted by the Jackson family. Jermaine couldn't finish speaking, Marlon took over, but broke down towards the end, when he mentioned his twin brother Brandon, already passed, and is in heaven with Michael now.

Janet is next. No Paris is speaking. So heartfelt. She loves her Daddy.

20:42: The casket is leaving the stage, carried by the Jackson brothers.

Fin (for real this time)

in memoriam - michael jackson

2009-07-07T18:50:00.006+01:00

Today seems shrouded in an air of melancholy.

The clouds hold an ominous threat. Thunder rolls between lightning flashes and rain and hail are pouring from the sky.

If I was a fan of cliche I would say that even the elements are in mourning today, as they, along with the rest of the world watch Michael Jackson being laid to rest. It would be apt I think, a fitting tribute to the King of Pop.

I feel, along with most 80s babies, that a piece of my childhood is dead. My tears are for a global icon of childhood, and for the world's great loss.

Mucisian, Dancer, Humanitarian, The greatest entertainer that has ever, is currently, or will ever live.

locs day 1

2009-07-05T21:52:00.002+01:00

The locs journey has begun, the twists look hot and they are not scalpy which I was worried about. I probably won't go back to MR in Tooting though. Not because they did anything wrong (except overusing the locking butter to the extent that I felt my Soul Glo!), but because it reminded me of everything I hate about the black salon experience. Now I remember why I prefer paying the lil extra and having the salon come to me. So I'm looking for a loctician, who doesn't use beeswax, or petrolatum based products and can come to my part of London.

the decision has been made

2009-07-02T15:56:00.006+01:00

I like talking to randoms on public transport. Along with reading, it is one of the only things I enjoy about public transport.

So today I talked to a random on the DLR.

A gorgeous black woman with a possibly american/ canadian accent (I can't tell the difference) and her even more gorgeous daughter. We'll call her Dreadz.

Talking to people on public transport is easy. All you need is a smile and an opening hook. So smile at the ready, I leaned over and said:

"Can I ask you a question? How long have you had your locs, they're beautiful"

And now I'm just realising how much like a chat-up line that sounded. Fortunately, Dreadz didn't run from my blatant (but unintentional) flirtation, and we proceeded to have a really good chat about the process of starting and maintaining locs.

Dreadz has had her locs for over 2 years now, and they look fabulous, no lie. Slightly longer than chin length, very black (not my off black/ brown dodgy hair colour).

And so today I decided that I want them!

Locs have been at the back of my mind for a few years. The last few years I have been enjoying the 'fro, and finally learning how to look after my hair and what works for me. But now I'm bored, ready for the next challenge, and maybe that is locs. If it isn't then they're reversible for the 1st 6months so no probs.

I'm aware that for the first 3-6 months my head is going to look RUFF! The until locs settle in they are temperamental, irritating, fluffy, frizzy, etc etc. but after that I'm hoping for something that looks a little like this...

or this....

(how beautiful are they? I mean it's not because of the locs, but still....)

So the twisting appointment is booked for Sunday 10.30. I'm being completely lazy because I could have done it myself but I'll part with £50 to get the partings at the back of my head straight. I feel like I'm starting a journey and I'm excited!

So much for my "its just hair" philosophy - lol

uninspired, unmotivated, unimpressed

2009-06-30T23:08:00.003+01:00

I hassled two bloggers today about their lack of new material. JohnBoy was kind enough to oblige quickly with a new post, Rio Tetsuo may need a little more of a push, but I'm sure he'll come around eventually. It's probably best if I update too so I can't be accused of hypocrisy.

The fact is, I prefer reading blogs to writing them. I prefer a little escapism into somebody else's life for a hot minute rather than re-immersing myself in the mundanities of my own. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite fond of my life, but I'm already living it. Writing about it is a form of therapy when it's in a padlocked journal that no one can read, but blogging is exposed. No matter how anonymous you may try to be, the internet is a public forum. And so my posting is restricted. Since I know people that I know may or may not be reading, what I write is restricted to what I want them to know, or what they already know. Maybe I shouldn't have been so free and easy with the web address in the early days.

On a sad note

Michael J is still dead.

boo

And now the rumour mill has begun grinding. (That is what mills do right? Grind? Corn, i think)

Yesterday I heard that Jordie Chandler had been so moved by the death of Michael that he had to come clean about the blatant fabrication that was his molestation charge. I wanted to believe it, but it came accompanied by a waft of bulls*** that was hard to ignore.

MaryMary are also proclaiming (falsely) that Michael was baptised 3 weeks before he died. While this seemed to be a source a great comfort and relief to the 1,080 commenters on their status, it is a LIE!

Leave Michael alone!!

In further life updates:

I'm tired and unmotivated (there's a surprise!)

and my MOT is due in 11 days - I should probably look into that.

Grrr

SherryBaby* ain't nuthin but a money-grabbing....

*SherryBaby is my car, if you didn't get that reference

michael jackson died

2009-06-26T00:20:00.005+01:00

I wanted to call this "End of an Era", or "Death of a Legend" or something equally dramatic as is befitting the death of Michael Jackson.

Dad came in and told me an hour ago that MJ was dead. I didn't believe it and on some level I still don't. Apparently his Peter Pan complex had me and the rest of the world believing that he would always exist. News currently reports that he died from a cardiac arrest; he was in a coma on arrival to the hospital and died soon afterwards.

TMZ had the story hours before other more reputable news outlets. A source I would usually dismiss. The internet is fabulous though, within minutes my facebook wall was full of shocked, disbelieving messages. Even my own messages follow a pattern of shock "is it true? MJ?", disbelief "someone needs to show me some proof", and finally acceptance "RIP MJ,".

The world has lost a great artist tonight. Unfortunately he was unable to stay relevent and change as the world around him changed, but it is a testiment to the quality of his early music that we are still fans.

I guess his legal troubles should be mentioned. A grown man sharing a bed (and whatever else occured) with young boys is wrong. And with all the people surrounding MJ, and the awareness of his slightly "off the wall" mental state, this should not have been allowed to happen TWICE. But I also believe that if I was a parent and Michael had alledgedly fiddled with my kids, no amount of money would shut me up - I would want him to be tried, jailed and then repeatedly troubled by a tattoed guy named Butch. I also wouldn't send my child to "sleepovers" at a grown man's house who has no kids! Someone's story didn't add up. I guess we'll never know whose. But as I sit here listening to Billie Jean I'm reminiscing through the rose tinted specs of hindsight that obliterate the negativity.

I just bought a couple things from Amazon, the Moonwalker DVD which I've been looking for for ages, and a Motown MJ 3 disc album. I want them before the mad memoribilia rush begins.

Also I'm feeling a little guilty. Because my second thought (after ...tragic death of a legend...) was, are my concert tickets going to be refunded? Cold? Possibly. But I especially feel for all the people who bough concert tickets at wildly elevated prices. I wonder if there is a refund procedure for that? Also feeling guilty for the fleeting thoughts wondering if this was a life insurance scam - news of his brokeness is commonplace. But I hope I'm not that cynical.

Watching the news now I'm seeing people crying and fainting on footage of past Michael Jackson concerts. I remember those days! When seeing Michael was an EVENT on a grand scale. I saw his Dangerous tour in the UK. I was blessed, lucky enough to see his talent live and unadulterated. I remember going into school the next day head held high; I'd seen Michael Jackson! For a couple days (which included a show and tell) my news was the hottest thing!

This self taught (people forget he was SELF TAUGHT) man, BLACK MAN (yeah we claim him in death) will never be bested. No one currently even comes close. All those pretenders to the throne, the omarian's, chris browns, neyos and ushers need to show respect to the origin of all of their styles.

RIP Michael, I hope you find the peace in death that you so desperately craved in life.

michael in all his crotch grabbing, moonwalking, crowd pleasing glory

**************edit: Is this one of those deaths for which we are all slightly to blame? Our obsession with celebrity has reached fever pitch.

What causes a physically active, non-smoking man suddenly present to hospital in full cardiac arrest? There are many theories, but I'm postulating stress.

50 show dates, that apparently he didn't agree to, he only knew about 10, a legal fight on his hands (again!), brokeness, and constant media intrusion into his life from the age of 5, just typing it sounds stressful. Still a lil shell shocked - there may be more updates forthcoming...******************

today i...

2009-06-22T23:10:00.006+01:00

...extracted 2 wisdom teeth from 2 different patients in 2 hours - funking fabulous!

...spoke to my northern friend, who forgets me on occasion but is loved nonetheless

...finished off the vegan blackforest gateau i made for Father's day
(vegan does NOT mean tasteless - it was full of chocolately/ cherry goodness)

....screened my calls - I'm refusing to let that nokia rule my life. Leave a message, I'll get back to you, maybe

...made plans to see terminator 4 (finally), last big blockbuster of the summer (i think), will it enter my top 3 of 2009?

robots in disguise!

2009-06-21T15:43:00.004+01:00

Saw Transformers II last night - screen 11 at the o2 (naturally).

And it was....

....alright.

HERE BE minor SPOILERS....continue at your peril....

The jokes were predictable, the human side of the story line was predictable. The Twinz irritated me - and the next person who calls them the "black ones" will get decked because last time I checked robots are melanin deficient and do not originate from Africa. Robots chatting like bloody Tim Westwood. It's Jar Jar Binks all over again!

The screen was beautiful though - I think the term Visual Candy is totally appropriate here, everything just looked goooooooooooooooood! The sexy camaro that is Bumblebee would still have looked better with me in it (i wish). Guys have Megan Fox for their eye candy. She looks more sexy than filthy in this film which is great, because recently shes been looking a bit Try-sexual. Shia LeBoeuf, great name and cute, but the ladies also have Tyrese (a black guy who's every line contains "ass" or "shit" - how original) and Captain Lennox *drool*.

Some free newspaper reviewers were complaining that they were unable to tell the Autobots and Decepticons apart during the fight scenes. To them I say "should've gone to Specsavers". It's really not difficult,

bright coloured = good

gun metal grey = bad

I guess the problem was that I was bored. I didn't care about the Fallen. Megatron seemed like a bit of a chump compared to the Fallen. The robots just seemed like they'd been tacked onto a storyline about a guy going off to college and trying to avoid saying the L word before his girlfriend does.

And I didn't care!!

Last night the o2 also dropped a little in my estimation, as did my company. Renovations to Car Park 4 and 3 events occurring at once meant the car parking nearby was full and I had to park some ridiculous distance away.

*unimpressed*

Film finished after 11.30 (it was 2.5 hours long!!), it was dark, it was a lil chilly, roads were empty. Am I wrong to expect to be walked to my car? Maybe I've been spoilt in the past but I expect friends,by virtue 2 being safer than 1, to show at least a passing concern for my safety after I've been out with them. Ah well I'm still in one piece and none the worse for wear - no harm, no foul I guess. I'm pretty sure that it won't happen again though.

what loves company?

2009-06-21T00:35:00.003+01:00

Never really been much for the negative emotions - best ignored and avoided.

But tonight, I felt what I have lost, intensely.

Just dull pressure in my chest and an ache in my throat

Who knew that the car would be the best place for contemplation (in lieu of a vast expanse of nature).

the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the...

2009-06-17T22:11:00.002+01:00

After work today I drove down to Mitcham. My brakes were giving me trouble all the way to Coventry and back and apparently breakdown cover does not cover faulty brakes. If I had died on the side of the M1 my family would have been due a hefty pay out from that gem-like female only car insurer.

ANYWAY

So the plan was to go to my Uncle's house, follow him to the mechanics and then for him to drive me home (the luxury of family). The plan succeeded. The car is now waiting outside the mechanics waiting for D to work his magic.

Luckily for you this isn't the interesting part of the story.

During the drive home me and my uncle got into a debate about the nature of truth.

Is truth absolute or conditional?

Isn't it weird that the questions that have been debated for many hundreds of years always seem to have obvious answers, until you debate them with someone with an opposing point of view?

I think truth is conditional. I think that what is true for one, will not necessarily be true for all. I think that what is true in one place or time, may not be true for another. I can't think of something that is absolutely true for all things/ people/ time etc

But I actually want to think this out and do it justice - so I'll be back after some good book based research (or google)

current thoughts

2009-06-16T17:58:00.004+01:00

Arnie's bum in terminator 1 is a thing of beauty. Sculpted and firm. Yum!

My new sexy flatscreen is deceptive - it makes films look better than they are.

I have a list of uni stuff to do and no time to do it in.

Welcome to a lil slice of my world....

twenty-four years and 3 days

2009-06-15T16:50:00.006+01:00

This print is called "Celebration" by Keith Mallett and can be purchased here

I had such a lovely birthday weekend.

Friday...

Started off at friday lunch when I was greeted at uni by my lab partner holding my card in one hand and a handmade banana cake in the other - she knows that good cake is my red kryptonite. She apologised that it wasn't a giant lemon slice - but apparently that's in production for next year.

*excitement*

We'd come in early for our afternoon session and sat in the student union celebrating my birth. Eventually we went to the afternoon sesh which was Oral Surgery with my nemesis/ tutor. He looks like Hey Arnold's Indian twin brother, and has an infuriatingly passive smile and a voice which makes me want to garrote him. Luckily for me, I got to avoid him all session while treating a patient with trismus and lingual nerve parasthesia after wisdom tooth removal - basically her tongue was numb and she could hardly open her mouth without pain. (And by treating, I mean reassuring her that it will go away in a few weeks because there is absolutely f*** all we could do for her).

After uni was a mad dash home to eat, wash and prettify myself before being chauffeured to the o2 (mum was feeling generous) to meet the girls. The indigO2 was hosting boyzIImen that night and my darling friend had bought me tickets as a present. The tickets said BoyzIImen plus special guests and we had spent weeks trying to work out who was in town and who would perform well with the boyz. Our guesses ranged from Beyonce (unlikely in hindsight) to Britney (lol - can you imagine?). The reality was an opening act who looked like Dave Chappelle and sang like a cruise line entertainer.

*epic fail*

Maybe he was just there to make the Boyz look better - but he was absolutely unnecessary! We were late so we missed most of his set, and settled in to watch the Boyz with a malibu and cranberry in my hand and flanked by the girls on either side.

The boyz still have it!

Can you imagine? After almost 20 years they still have it. The lights glistened off the Dax in their texturised hair. The 3 piece suits were SHARP! The dance moves perfectly evoked the feel of the groups of the 90's. In the background they played their music videos showing more 90's dance moves, and women wearing clothes *woah* and when they were in swimwear there wasn't a bootyshaking, ass clapping, p**** popping one among them. But I digress...

The harmonies were TIGHT! But that was to be expected. Unfortunately the 4th member of the group left. He was the one with the BASS in his voice (I know you know who I mean) and his voice was definitely missed, especially in A Song for Mama and End of the Road. Hopefully he'll be back, rumor has it that he's suffering from a debilitating illness, so prayers for effective management and a speedy recovery.

The Boyz should have spent more time on stage - their back catalogue is huge and so many songs were missed out but it looked they ran over their time since after the encore the backstage staff plucked the mics from their hands and raised the house lights. Boo to them.

Saturday...

Woke up early to drive to the East Midlands....
Jacked up my car AGAIN!
Had a faboosh time

details forthcoming...

tomorrow is my birthday!!

2009-06-11T21:35:00.003+01:00

It really is a self-explanatory title.

Tomorrow at 10:10am it will be 24 years exactly since the world was blessed with my presence!

Lucky world

HAPPY BIRTHDAY/ EARTHDAY/ BORNDAY TO MEEEEEE!!!!

Now I know it's credit crunch and the big expensive presents will not be forthcoming. But even so my birthday gives me a little frission of excitement. I'll be up til 12 tonight to see it in. Tomorrow I have an oral surgery session in the afternoon and I'm hoping that my birthday present will be first pick of the patients! I'd love to pull a tooth or two on my birthday (I am the consumate dentist).

However, aside from the BoyzIIMen concert which I'm attending with Nadia as a birthday present tomorrow night, I won't be holding any other celebrations. It's not really the time. Since Sabrina passed so tragically I can't really bring myself to celebrate like nothing happened. Maybe I'll postpone celebrations until I feel more in the mood. Sabrina's death is still a shock to me, I can't process it properly.

Everytime I read or hear about the crash I just tear up. I sometimes get accused of being a lil stand-offish and cold, and I'd probably agree with all who think this, but my emotions run deep and I have a ridiculous amount of empathy, and I feel like sometimes I can feel the emotions of others more keenly than I can my own. So no, I have no idea how Sabrina felt as the plane went down, but that doesn't stop my mind recreating what I think it must have been like, along with the occasional tears. I've been more reticient than usual, less chatty, less involved. The fragile nature of life has been exposed but I have never felt more detached. Hopefully I'll be back in the game soon.

wednesday night

2009-05-29T22:39:00.002+01:00

best bitterwsweet goodbye kiss...

....ever

although i would have prefered not to be saying goodbye - obviously.

good kiss

the princess and the frog

2009-05-17T12:37:00.003+01:00

this is the latest trailer for the new disney animation "the princess and the frog"!

and it actually doesn't look tooooo bad...

i have to admit i was skeptical. the first black disney princess, after 75years of princesses. something was going to go wrong, right? well for some audiences it already has.

prince naveen

an arabic name, with a latin american accent. i actually think he looks cute, and a little cheesy. but the problem that a lot of black commenters are having boils down to "why couldn't they give her a black prince to fall in love with?".

people are up in arms about it - but i don't get the problem. the reason that disney didn't make the prince black is simple - they don't want this to be labelled as a BLACK film. although they are enjoying the free publicity in the black community as a result of their first black princess, they still want to make bucketloads of money and that means every race needs to feel included. this isn't an altruistic move on disney's part to show black women as princesses. no, they saw a gap in the market that everyone else was studiously ignoring, and decided to fill it.

it's capitalism hard at work and if you expected anything else then you should zip up, your naivete is showing!

how sad is it, that black people are looking to disney to provide positive images of black relationships? that's not disney's job. that's YOUR job as a parent, aunty, uncle, godparent, whatever, if that is something that you feel is important.

i love seeing healthy black relationships because that is what i have been raised to see as my ideal (without any disney input, i might add - lol). but i also love seeing happy relationships FULL STOP. and if Princess Tiana and Naveen find love, more power to them! a lil more love in the world is never going to be a bad thing.

i have also decided to forgo capital letters for a while, you may have noticed, no particular reason, just trying something new.

new beginnings

2009-05-07T22:58:00.003+01:00

I think I may have a masochistic streak.

Even though I'm back at university again, studying, working and tutoring with precious little time to call my own...

Even though my Hb levels are approaching anaemic and I am ridiculously exhausted ALL THE TIME!...

EVEN THOUGH I already find it difficult keeping up-to-date with writing here...

...I've started a new blog!

It's called Politricks UK and I'm hoping to have it up and running properly in the next few weeks. I have so much research to do, because I know nothing about politics, but that is kind of the reason for it's existance. I know I'm not the only one completely ignorant of the UK's system so hopefully as I educate me, I can pass on what I'm learning to others.

thief of time

2009-04-23T17:37:00.004+01:00

I hate my time being wasted.

What I hate even more is my time being wasted when I'm ill, in pain or otherwise having a crappy day, a day like Tuesday, when my stomach felt like Tyson was punching it repeatedly.

(I know you can see where this is going...)

I made plans to see a friend on Tuesday night for drinks. I use the term friend loosely, since the friendship is a new thing. We were together on and off for a year and a half and then didn't talk for over a year. Now we have been trial running friendship for 6 months. *backstory over*

The plan was that I would drive up to Rainham (a pretty significant distance from my house), pick him up and we'd go out for drinks (non-alcoholic for me obviously - don't drink and drive!). I spoke to him at 6pm and told him that I was about to drop something off at my girl's house and I'd be at his for 8.30pm.

"That's cool"

My girl Nadia had just come back from NYC and I had her birthday present from a week before she left (delayed - I know), so we talked, caught jokes and ate sweet popcorn which she must have missed while being in the States since they prefer to drench popcorn in fat and destroy their arteries rather than drench it in sugar and ruin those perfect teeth!

Anyway I digress, before I left Nadia's I called my friend and he didn't pick up, so I texted to let him know that I was on my way.

So why is it that 10minutes later I pulled up outside his house and his car wasn't in the drive? I called again, because being a friend, he wouldn't go far when he knew I was coming over, right?

Right?

WRONG

After 15 minutes of hanging around I finally heard from him,

He was in north london and wasn't going to be back for at least an hour

WTF?

"Are you going to wait for me?"

WTF?

I really hope he was joking, because after repressing some choice expletives I hung up and drove home. A warning to all - driving home angry, is just as distracting as driving tired, or maybe even drunk, and isn't recommended.

I still don't really know exactly what happened, I was a little too heated to discuss it at the time and I haven't heard from him since (I rarely get angry, but apparently can inspire fear when I do - a useful skill). I mean was there some kind of miscommunication? Was there an emergency in North London? And as much as I would like one of these reasons to apply I know they don't. If you know that you are due to meet someone at a particular time, any changes that will affect those plans warrant a text message to warn the other party. It's common courtesy, it wasn't extended to me on Tuesday, and it serves as a reminder for why the ex is an ex.

kanye is a gay fish?

2009-04-19T19:25:00.002+01:00

I know I'm so late with this.

But it is the perfect antidote to the ringa roses foolishness below:

FUNNY!!!

N.B. There is an ad break at 2:08 when the screen goes blank - just keep watching...

ringa roses skank

2009-04-19T18:43:00.003+01:00

I originally wanted to write about what an amazing Saturday I had. And brag about the fact that I managed to get through it on less than 2 hours sleep! (yay me!)

But my joy was rudely cut short.

Now Saturday was FABULOUS so you know it took some serious ridiculosity to stamp all over my joy,

This is the reason:

Watch it.
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...

No seriously you actually have to watch it to understand.

Eva's list of issues:

STOP F**KING WITH THE NURSERY RHYMES!!!
STOP F**KING WITH THE NURSERY RHYMES!!!
This video is proof to the indie market that small budgets do not equal profundity. This must have cost a tenner to make, and that includes cast and crew lunches.
The dance is an amalgamation of tribal and migraine skanks with a sprinking of Hskat* in the request to get down low - Eva appreciates originality.
The song is crap - Eva is not a fan of the funky.
STOP F**KING WITH THE NURSERY RHYMES!!! PLEASE!

(I don't make a habit of swearing, I think that it shows a lack of imagination and a poor vocabulary, but sometimes, SOMETIMES, there's nothing else to say.)

Maybe this depresses me so much because of the copyright infringement. My younger cousins and I invented this dance months ago, along with the Incy Wincy Spider skank (copyright 2009) and the Twinkling Star skank (copyright 2009)!

Knew I should have put that video on youtube (grrr)

*pronouced "haitch-skat" (Heads shoulders knees and toes)

are you kidding me??

2009-04-17T17:47:00.004+01:00

TV Execs must be grasping at straws if this is the best they could come up with.

Set The Video: My Life As An Animal, BBC Three, Thursday 16 April, 9pm

I can't quite make out whether this is going to be like watching the televisual equivalent of liquid poo or one the most geniusy things I will ever see in my life. I'm previewing My Life As An Animal because I see it as public duty - if you tune into BBC Three on Thursday night and see human being crawling about on all fours eating dog food you may think someone has spike your tea with some of the most powerful LSD that humanind has ever made, so you definitely need to be warned.

The series itslef sees eight 'celebrities' take part in a reality series and that is being badged, by the channel funnily enough, as an "innovative and bold" experiment. In it, these slebs will try and learn more about animals by sleeping, eating and (trying to) communicate with horses, dogs, pigs, penguins and seals.

Even as I write this I'm struggling not to laugh out loud. Surely it's no more so an important and bold social experiment than Big Brother (and we all know what that is really).

But let's take this seriously just for a second. The volunteers will closely observe the animals to help inform their own behaviour. Then its in with the animals - gaining a place within the strict hierarchy of thoroughbred stallions, winning the trust of a pack of foxhounds, and learning about pigs and their piglets.

And that's where this first episode starts, with pigs. Actor Richard Da Costa and Five Live's Lynsey Hipgrave leave their homes, friends and family behind to live as pigs for four days.

Complete and utter madhouse. Half of me wants to shoot the person who came up for this for finding another new low TV can sink to, but the other half... is curious.

From TV Scoop

I'm not curious, I JUST want to shoot whoever thought of this, and whoever okayed it, and whoever researched it, and whoever else is invoved! Reality TV is the fifth horseman of the apocolypse.

well you're entitled to your opinion....

2009-04-17T15:11:00.006+01:00

... you're damn right I am!

And for the record, that entitlement doesn't need to be voiced by you! It really gets to me when people state that I'm entitled to my opinion, because what they really mean is, "I'm right, you're wrong and I can't be bothered to debate this with you like an adult". If you truly believed that we were both as entitled to our opinions, it would go without saying.

I've noticed this patronising phrase coming up recently when I discuss religious/ spiritual topics with religious people.

For the record - when it comes to God I am conflicted. My spiritual side whole-heartedly believes in a Being (with a capital ~B), capable of infinite love and forgiveness. My logical side sees the 10 o/c news and scoffs at the beliefs of the spiritual side.

To further complicate matters I feel like the word "spiritual" sounds ridiculously pretentious, but I can't think of another so that is what we'll be using.

Anyway - the facebook status that sparked debate was mine:

Eva doesn't believe in hell, except that which we create for ourselves here on earth. She doesn't believe in the devil either, human nature is devious enough.

A pretty innocuous statement really, based on the fact that if you believe in a being of infinite forgiveness, how could that being then condemn you to an eternity of torment - something doesn't add up!

And in the absence of proof for or against the existance of this being that epitomises evil (Devil) it's pretty easy to choose against.

Think about it. If the devil does exist - but I live a good life - his/ her/ its existence doesn't really affect me. I attribute the bad things that happen to me as;

bad luck,
random chance (the crap has to hit somebody)
another human's issues (psychopathic tendencies, anger etc)

and react accordingly.

Try taking personal responsibility for the crap that happens to you!

If you're single and you don't want to be, maybe you're doing something wrong
If you keep attracting wastemen/ women, maybe you're doing something wrong
If you're stuck in a dead end job, maybe your lazy ass is doing something wrong (ok scratch that one, its a recession - times are hard)

If the devil doesn't exist and I live a good life - I attribute the bad aspects of my life to the same things - except I now walk with an air of smug righteousness - obnoxious, i know - lol!

In a Seattle debate about the existence of the devil, Deepak Chopra had this to say

"Healthy people do not have any need for Satan. Healthy people need to confront their own issues, understand themselves and move towards the direction of compassion, creativity, understanding, context, insight, inspiration, revelation and understanding that we are part of an ineffable mystery. …So I would say be done with Satan and confront your own issues."

Exactly what I wanted to say - with added eloquence and wisdom!

To be honest, my rage was because I was unable to state this opinion without someone on the highest of high horses leaving me a facebook message telling me that I was wrong. I'm humble enough to agree that that may be the case, I'm not omniscient. Can you admit the same?

"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it."
- Aristotle

let he who is without sin...

2009-04-16T17:10:00.002+01:00

This woman should be the poster child for the new Safe Sex campaign. Durex should recruit her and plaster her face on billboards across the country.

Read here how a pretty 26 year old singer had unprotected sex with 3 men, knowing that she was HIV+.

Now she has been arrested and charged with grievous bodily harm. But is she guilty?

There's is no doubt that HIV is a debilitating virus. After the initial infection there is a latency period which can last anything up to 20 years during which an infected person can live a pretty normal life. But eventually the immune system is destroyed because the lymphocyte (a type of white blood cell) population is depleted. Most HIV infected people develop AIDS. The weakened immune system leads them to contract oppurtunistic infections and cancers such as Cytomegalovirus or Kaposi's sarcoma (did you see Philadelphia? yeah - that) - you'd rarely see these in healthy individuals.

Sex with Nadja (for that is the singer's name) may have given these guys a long, drawn out death certificate (much like tobacco companies do, everyday - I digress) but where is the personal responsibility of these men considered? Why were they not concerned enough with their own health to wrap up and strap up? Unprotected sex is like playing russian roulette and unfortunately these guys got the bullet.

For Nadja to be charged with GBH a jury needs to prove that she acted with malicious intent. The BBC story doesn't really clarify if this is the case. If this was an "I hate men" campaign on her part, then throw away the key! But please bear in mind the ability of good sex to cloud sanity and good judgement. In the heat of the moment, protection is often forgotten - it has happened to everyone! But for Nadja and the guys the consequences were a little more severe.

Edit: Yes I am aware that this woman is completely in the wrong, don't read me as condoning her actions. I am a huge fan of personal responsibility and I feel it's being lost in modern culture and replaced by blame culture, so here is an alternate view...

Maybe this story is motivation to judge if our own practices are healthy:

When was the last time you got a full sexual health MOT?

Do you always wear some kind of barrier protection method when you have sex?

late night/ early morning ramblings

2009-04-16T02:53:00.001+01:00

Why am I awake and coherent at 3am?

I went to see a late night showing of Fast & Furious at the vast, UFO shaped monstrosity on the Greenwich peninsula.

A perfect example of why your mother told you not to judge a book by it's cover, inside is FAB-U-LOUS! Restaurants, bars, clubs, exhibition centres, music arenas AND a cinema with a screen of a size that defies description (Screen 11* - if you don't know, you need to!)

When it comes to shoot-em-up, chase-em-down films I'm a cynic. I go in with the lowest of low expectations and from there the only way is up:

A discernable plot? - cool
A reasonable, straightforward and engaging plot? - bonus baby!

Coherent dialogue? - nice
Interesting and character appropriate dialogue? - well jeez - well lucky ol' me, bonus again!

I went into Fast & Furious expecting remedial acting of a basic script but I was pleasently surprised.

I also began to understand the Vin Diesel man-crush. Vin Diesel is the guy that the manly men want to be (and womanly women want to have lol).

He's not the effeminate shiny bodied metrosexual male model, with muscles like a slab of chocolate, and just as useless. Vin has muscles that look functional, instead of pretty boy aesthetic, responds in grunts and growled words, and wraps it up with a teddybear smile.

Unfortunately his real name is Mark Sinclair - nobody's perfect.

But the return of testosterone filled men? I'm enamoured.

Actually starting to feel tired now...

[*alledgedly the largest in London at 22metres wide]

hair nirvana

2009-04-16T02:36:00.001+01:00

A timely example of the "it's just hair" nirvana I'm aiming to reach.

It looks like she had half a britney breakdown! *pause*

To be honest she has such a pretty face she could pull off a lime green mohawk, but I still admire the innovation.

Be bold, be courageous, ladies (and gents)...

...IT'S JUST HAIR!!

attempt number...

2009-04-14T18:19:00.000+01:00

The internet is littered with my failed attempts at blogging.

I have blogspotted, wordpressed (for shame!) and even hosted at a secret domain name which can only be revealed under duress.

I tried to join the natural black haircare movement, only to find that it is rife with hairtype clashes (kinkies vs curlies and cnapps fighting all by themselves) and product worship. But since I'm on my way to that "it's just hair" nirvana that all naturals aim to reach, I think blogging about my body's waste keratin is a snooze.

I tried to blog about dentistry - since we are severely under- and misrepresented...

But teeth are never going to set the world alight, and after a full day of studying, a girl could do with a break.

So I guess this serves as a warning, the path of this blog is as yet undefined... follow at your peril.