A shopaholic's moan...

And so I log onto the intranet at work and the words ‘obsessive about customer service’ bounce off the red and white Vodafone page, my subconscious clearly processing my various shopping experiences. This of course is no surprise to me, all I’ve thought about the last twenty-four hours is customer service and how in the UK we know very little about it or perhaps a mere nothing,… is that a fair comment?
As an extremely busy individual, most of my shopping is done over the internet. The one factor that consistently drives me to return to a site or an actual physical store is the experience. Stay with me, I will tie in my fabulous, not so fabulous and down right exasperating experiences and outings into my tale at some point.

I unashamedly admit that I do a fair amount of shopping on Asos and not just because the t.v ads are so fabulous, the ‘user experience and engagement’ is phenomenal! Asos is simply every ‘busy, shopaholic, aspiring fashionista’s ‘dream.
For one, I have a ‘saved items’ list, where I can achieve the ‘very underrated grandeur of window shopping’ , now not only can I gloat lasciviously and salivate over stunning clothes, I can save them and buy them when I eventually choose to.
In the history of ‘online shopping’ never has there been a more efficient search engine; 'every filter' in the book adorns the plain white sides of asos.com., this effectively means if I want a size 10, black , asymmetric, short dress that was designed by ‘Alexander Wang’ all I need to do is click, click and click and then it not only shows me the dress but how to complete the look , as it drops precious hints on which celeb recently wore it and what they looked like, how they accessorised and that’s only the start of the experience.
Once I move into the ‘check out’ area, I'm so kindly asked which of my 3 registered addresses do I want my purchase billed and shipped to... and yes most times, I get my stuff delivered to work but billed to my home, so this is 'tres - useful'. As my credit card details are held on file, Asos simply asks me to enter my CVC (card verification code) and then a few minutes later; yours truly receives a really cool e mail telling me what I’ve ordered and a day or so later I’m notified when my items are dispatched. No issues with entering my addresses, no issues with returns… aah yes! They also send a returns slip with all deliveries so returns are extremely easy. The sizes are almost ‘bang-on’ which translates to; in all my ‘Asos’ years, I’ve only sent ONE item back and the funds were back on my card in… wait for it… 3 days!... Mac made wait 14 days! I’m Asos VIP (pathetic eh? *sigh*)so I get to hear about the sales a day before and I get vouchers all the time… It may all be done in a bid to attract me to keep spending with them ... but guess what? it works! I actually feel special  when I’m spending my 'hard-earned mulah' with these guys… is Asos American???

Argos are almost as perfect… yup trust me… Little woods … horrendous… Amazon… hmmm! This one was perfect until I signed up for the now-so-dreaded ‘one click’ ordering, so now I have no idea which of my cards is being charged. Now that is annoying because I am a planner, ‘plan my money’ to the ‘minute-est’ detail is what I do; Gosh, I mean how else am I going to keep spending astronomically… huh?
And of course I get 13 different deliveries; all separate when I put a big order through… aarrrgghh!!! But, I did get a bottle of ‘Davidoff Game’ for free… and we love perfume! … So ‘not so brilliant’ experience but cool gifts!.. by the way, if you’re a student; Amazon is almost impossible to live without...


fabulous Audrey Hepburn having breakfast right in front of Tiffanys'... and no Tiffanys' not a restaurant, its a jewelry store...

My worst internet shopping experience however, happened to be Tiffany’s, which hurt so bad. C'mon, Audrey Hepburn's 'Breakfast at Tiffanys' is only my best movie of all time, not to mention that I think she might have transferred the sentiments gained from 'eating an all butter croissant while peering through glass shields at exotic, perfectly carved jewelry right through to me' … they have diamonds on there worth millions of pounds and the experience was crap???… Horrendous! Unfortunately buying jewelry at 3:00 am after a fab dinner at Nobu didn't directly transcend to a memorable 'breakfast at tiffanys' moment. Granted, my transaction was only slightly above £700, but for God’s sake, the entire experience of buying jewelry should be pleasantly unforgettable; 'to be remembered - permanently ebbed in my memory', but no, not this one! First the address had to match word for word exactly what ‘crap database’ tiffanys' owned, I didn’t have to create an account, I didn’t have to sign in… blah blah blech! and then it kept taking forever and then I almost gave up… and then it worked… 45 very slow, very arduous minutes later. The jewelry was intensely orgasmic and that’s why I stuck it out… and of course I’m a shopaholic… Gucci.com was just lame, nothing! Just lame and bland.

Net-a-porter, the outnet, cocosa... all cool but my faves are still Asos and then Tobi‘safety’… and oh how could I forget e bay. One word ... safety! I feel safe when I shop with e-bay. It’s clear that’s the one thing they ensure their users feel, how ironically pleasant as the idea of a million buyers and sellers definitely gave me an initial sense of uneasiness, a virtual market place that prioritises the interests of its audience ( for there's always an audience... right? ask Inua Ellams')… Tesco.com, its okay but they WILL forget half your shopping and the ‘Soho Theatre’… hmm! They won’t tell you about the latecomers’ policy so if you’re 10 minutes late, you won’t see the show, the Lyceum, however will let you leave tickets for one of your ‘late’ friends at the box office. Humming Bird’ as much as I love the cakes, 12 GBP is a ridiculous delivery charge never mind they can only guarantee a delivery time of 12- 5 pm… and the list goes on…

Physical locations, now that’s a whole different story… Gucci, annoyingly stuck up and I very rarely pull the race card, but these guys are plain silly… Louis Vuitton… to die for. Jimmy Choo – fab, fab service… Someday when I begin to afford names like ‘Bottega Veneta’, you know the ones that are impossible to pronounce, I shall let y’all know.
Humming Bird… now the store was so different to the site… fantastic! They actually let us in after they’d closed their doors, now that’s service! Hakassan and Umu … great interiors, not great service. Umu … pretty, arty, very decorated food, Hakassan ; the food tastes better and the portions are bigger :). Nobu; crap interior, it looked like an expensive version of Wagamama; plain decor,  fantastic food however, thw Wagyu beef was fantastic and sushi to die for and of course we spotted a few celebs… what’s not to pay for?... Finally Apple, my all time favourite, Brilliant Hardware, Brilliant software; Brilliant customer service sans the iPhone 4 of course… I must warn you though if your product stops working, check and check again as they aren’t quick to do a swap, however they would offer to repair or change the parts, that's how sure they are of the quality of their products; once again! sans the iPhone 4… does it get any better?…

Pure Genius...

... so last night after work, I very briefly stopped at the Vodafone store in Paddington. For some insane reason, my brand new dongle wasn't working. I handed it to the gentle man at the counter and the the following conversation occurred;
him:  are you sure there's credit on it?
me: I've never used it
him: well you would need to bring your laptop in
me: uhhhhh! I can't do that... its a 17" MacBook Pro, its too heavy... can you please check the sim's working? I keep getting a sim error.
him: you have to bring your laptop in, I can't do anything about until I see it...

Now you see, I work for VF groups and somehow I couldn't quite match our values; 'speed, simplicity and trust' to my experience with this dude. I was on the receiving end of a trail of dirty looks and sarcastic comments. What better time really was there to pick up some blank test Sims for my UE team from this unassuming gentleman?... So I pulled out my VF badge (very snide look of course, I was pulling rank) and the dude staggered... literally! What ensued was the 'rebirth of a new employee' he was the kindest soul on earth, dirty looks disappeared and now I had two of them serving me... *sigh!* ... no one explains it better than Randy Glasbergen...

29 (look and act 24), 34DD and playful, black-British, 5ft 6in, speak with an 'american twang'...should that matter when I walk into a store? shouldn't the fact that I'm a customer or a client be more than enough of a reason for somewhat civil treatment?... Last night I was a VF client not an employee... an extremely disappointed client...

I guess the answer to the hutch dog's question is... no! they'll paint themselves red...

The Hak, UMU, a problem with anger and all my friends are superheroes!!!

The last few weeks have seen me uninspired to write, If only it had stopped at a simple lack of inspiration to write …. I had somehow spiralled into this zone of mere existence, innate imperfection and twists of silence. It was a quietness of being and of spirit physically transpired into a ‘near-fortnight’ of no writing.
Gosh! I reviled feeling so tired and I outrageously detested falling ill. It was awful. Oh I forget that this is not another one of my conversations to me. I apologise, I’ll now explain…

Failing to recognise that the ‘painful tiredness’ I had so strongly experienced was my body’s manner of advising me it was aimed for a crash. I pushed myself harder than ever. As usual, I had my head stuck in my own little world and ignored the tumultuous warnings. We therefore did have pizza and wine the next day with James, Andy and E and I fell asleep at about 22:00 while everyone was still there! (horror!)... Another clue, maybe!
Fast forward to Thursday; bag bought, a decision not to Salsa, Zumba cancelled and no desire to see a museum, gallery, have dinner, write or meet anyone for drinks. I lie! I did meet Akua for dinner to discuss the ‘Re-launch Rihane’ campaign… but my point is! Imagine my shock when I couldn’t move on Thursday morning… I was ill, horrendously ill, in bed for four very long days… arrgghhh! The tears came more out of frustration, the aggravation that my racing brain hadn’t recognised my body was not working and was still caught in a flamboyant song and dance, I wanted needed to do something other than lie down but Alas! I couldn’t.

Monday morning; my girl Tee was in town! Woohoo! Now let me tell you a bit about Tee… Ambitious, fascinating, hyper and an aspiring powerbroker, 28 , her own business and a constant inspiration to me, she’s all tough but with a very keen softness (particularly when it comes to her man). She’s fantastic, in a nutshell and an SATC girl! Bliss! The much required 'Woman'...

We met up in Sheldon Square right outside the glass building where I ‘lived’… sorry I mean worked! and did what the quintessential ‘city’ worker in London does, took a black cab to Selfridges, we had dinner  reservations at Hakkasan but first! I was a crazy woman on a mission, the ‘silly’ person in Gucci had surreptitiously ( it was a conspiracy, it was :)) left a 'bloody' security tag on my £700 hand bag, just right there by the inner zip. Luckily I had noticed it as I was leaving home that morning, cursed slightly and then spent another ten minutes legging it back to my flat to retrieve the receipt. Now! The only reason I went back for the receipt was so I could show it in case I tripped off the security alarms as I walked into Selfridges… and before you ask! Yes! I did expect Gucci to remember me and my ‘meagre’ purchase until I got to the store of course and ‘the Italian’ looked me over; nose upturned like I was an inexperienced ‘petty thief’, so I lied to him; I advised I didn’t have my receipt and asked him to get a manager and then I, ‘the African Woman’ temporarily cast off class and decorum and went ape-shit on him (Gosh! My anger issues are my one biggest growing concern; I’m an angry bitch, Eureka!) and Mrs Obama would have been disappointed... but!!!!!

Fast forward again! I finally brought out my receipt, threw it at him, got the tag removed and then Tee bought a couple of ‘very hot’ shift dresses (she’s also an annoying size 8 and stunning) and I a really cool ‘military coat’ (this season, I’m obsessed with all things military... Again! :)).

Dinner with my ladies; Tee and O was extraordinary, the food at the ‘Hak’ gorgeous as usual, and the half-hour wait for the cab annoying. I am a bit of princess and the idea of waiting around, half an hour after dinner was just too much, especially after the very cute ‘coat-check guy’ had charmingly slid me into my coat (as they do). Apparently O had asked earlier, ‘should I call my regular cabbie?’ and I had absentmindedly agreed to her calling a cab from North London… *sigh*! So Wait (the verb) we did! Of course I moaned (oogling hot coat check guy at the same time, what! I have developed my multitasking), the whole time…

Tuesday! I now successfully felt like four trucks instead of the initial eight had run me over. I needed to shop… I did say I’m unlucky in love and obsessed with labels, actually obsessed with love too. So after the hilarious work lunch at the Waterway (it was Bryce’s birthday) with some really cool, really nice ;) visual designers, (they were extremely kind to talk about SATC, sex, Gucci and London Fashion week amidst new technologies for my benefit of course, I was in absolute ‘dumb chic mode’- tits and no intellect! Hey I was ill! ), a missed team meeting (my work sins were piling! Damn!), I added a CK scarf, head warmer, an LBD and CK grey shift dress to my wardrobe (considerable damage to the debit card, ouch! But beautiful clothes), skipped dinner (appetite was still crap plus I’d had ‘rubbery char grilled squid’ and 2 coronas for lunch that now felt like molten POP in my stomach,) and watched SATC (the one where they’re in LA – sex in another city) till I fell sleep at 19:30, dreamt of the ‘humming bird’ cupcakes I’d ordered for Thursday, slept through till morning and was still late to work even though I was working from home (don’t ask!).

Wednesday started with me dealing with 'safeguard login issues', the ‘dish washer repair’ man (I got angry again because he wouldn’t guarantee me a weekend appointment! Damn anger issues!) And then barrels of laughs and silliness as amazing company made dinner at UMU a calming change. Tee had arranged for us to do the 'evening -sup' with her hugely funny publisher, astute business man and ‘certified foodie’ friend. UMU was fantastic as O and I got acquainted with Tee’s friend (it definitely made up for not getting a table at Nobu). To me he was Big Dee! BD had a love and knowledge of food and business that was extremely gratifying, not to speak of a wisdom that dug depths… The Wagyu beef, varieties of sushi, exaggerated bursts of artistic spreads and the drinks (Gosh my drink must have been spelt ‘hamakito whayiyaka’ it sure tasted like it threw a punch, I've probably just cursed some more) O’s was much verbally easier on the palette, ‘a Haketo or a Hajito’ (basically it was a mojito with sake, fantastic!) but BD’s, ‘matter of fact’ way of speaking and ‘larger than life’ attitude stole the evening. A little after midnight, I sank into a deep, deep sleep…

I woke up  this morning to Tee, already awake and doing business, Gosh! Her energy… It’s unreal!
Tonight TD, my number 1 mentor is finally in town, yaay!! And its dinner at the ‘Mango Tree’ or ‘Thai Thai’, with a couple of his friends and i'm bringing Tee of course!, Yup! That’s TD for you, all angles covered (interestingly enough he introduced me to the 'Hak'). I head to Pall Mall, the institute of Directors to meet with them at 6… *note to self*, ensure Tee has directions…

I’m writing again, yaay! (Forgive the rustiness please) It must have been Rashelle’s e mail, the smell of London again eagerly reminding me of my one true love, the artistic candour in which the food at UMU was displayed or Andrew Kaufman’s; ‘all my friends are superheros’ or maybe all of the above or maybe just the fact that I’m still expecting 18 fabulous cupcakes; Bryce’s belated birthday pressie or maybe just that I am getting better… as I lay my proverbial pen to rest, I can’t help but think life is fantastic, I love London again and the world is perfect sans my anger issues… Damn! I sent my ex an angry text last night again! (ok! Maybe a few… tee hee… Gosh! I am angry…). 'Now! Where are the damn Humming Bird Cakes, 11-17:00??? Aaaarrgghhh! Ottolenghi is nearer!'…

Guest Blogger, my lady, miss Kiki next... I am extremely excited , she's fantastic ...

SATC keeps me focused...

I winced in pain from being so tired this morning; I cried (actual tears). Gosh! I felt my body aggressively plead for me to stay in. Ignoring (I’m a contractor!); I unwillingly embarked upon what eventually turned out to be an hour’s and a half 'prep of perfection' for work; London didn't need to know I was tired. Yesterday was so bad! I actually fell asleep at my desk! Good God!...


I gently reflected on the past week. My thoughts grazing steadily on the hazy, week-long attempt at settling into my new apartment, a huge make up purchase (hey blame Lancôme… its fab stuff!), a trip to one of my ladies; (the hairdresser), the cup-cake order, I'd placed with Vickii (anyone who can boast of better cakes than hummingbird and can produce 'a mojito-flavoured cupcake' is a winner with me- hmm! will let you know, I'm expecting they'll be fantastic), the beautiful dinner with him and lame stabs at Rodney Yee’s power yoga, (give me some credit for sweating) at the start of the week.

I got in about 18:30 after a brief stop at Tesco’s’, rearranged my bathroom closets, hung up laundry and tidied the flat. The rationale being I had a cleaner coming in on Sunday morning and needed to ensure things were a certain way so that she’ll keep them that way (My devious plan was to also create more time for her to finish the ironing within the stipulated 3 hrs:)). Friends over on Saturday also meant it had to look reasonably clean; pizza, beer, great conversation and wine feels like the only sane way to claw back from this crazily, insane week and I love entertaining.

My reflections had actually begun their 'somewhat immense botherings' yesterday; being so physically tired meant I felt crap mentally. I couldn’t even piece together the minutest of details, my focus was shot!  Neck gagged like a ‘processing bottleneck’! that was all okay! at least manageable until my confidence levels began to drop. God NO! Now that couldn’t happen, I clearly needed to get back in focus and reallign with the inner me. I was totally misallinged; deharmonised, internal ying-yang virtually gone.

The much needed ‘me-time’ began with an intense hour long regeneration to my face, deep pore cleansing, ‘black heads’ being annihilated, invigorating treatments and microdermabrasion (Body Shop vitamin C polisher highly recommended!). Gosh! I love Lancôme! (Body shop is great but it doesn't come close)... at the end of it my skin felt clean. Dinner! We had a no carbs after 20:00 rule; so a couple of frankfurters, some left over steak and SATC 1 (the movie), I settled in comfortably on the living room sofa, duvet wrapped around tightly!.

It was the umpteenth time I was seeing it but it always made me cry. I cried when Carrie and Big decided to get married, I cried when Big left Carrie at the library, I cried when Carrie did the Vogue Bridal shoot, I cried when Louise came into Carrie’s life, I cried when Big proposed, I cried when he took her out of City hall and her friends were waiting, I cried at pretty much every scene; Gosh! When Charlotte found out she was pregnant, when Miranda and Steve fell out and when they got back, when Samantha broke up with Smith because she wanted to focus on the relationship with herself… and then I laughed so hard when Charlotte ‘shit’ herself and then when Samantha got fat from her new night time hobby. It was fantastic all round- again!

It did make me wonder about me; (I did say I was self-involved:)) had I come to London for the 2 Ls’ too? I had already developed a strong love for Labels… hmmm! Love… we’ll see about that one!
I wanted my own girlfriends, you know the group that looks fab constantly,  that goes to London Fashion Week every year, looks out for each other, has amazing dinners and lunches, gives each other great celebratory toasts and never kisses and tells… does it really exist?

Tonight however, I’m going to be watching SATC again, this time the series, for as long as my weary eyes can cope, really excited about Saturday and next week;

Monday sees me to Selfridges with George and Angeliki; yaay! for my LV gallieria GM in Damier Azur and some well deserved cuts from the food hall (hey! the meats are hung for 28 days) from the food hall; lush!!!. Tuesday; Zumba, Wednesday; I meet with Akua as we discuss Ivanaa collaborating with the Rhian Benson expose, Thursday, I have got to meet with my darling cousin, Fedmund!, might be able to do some business with him… Friday! Another SATC ‘me –time’… It does keep me focused! :)... Oh and 'Sky' (finally!) and my paintings come in the morning... Fab!!!!!!... Oh and ofcourse, I've got to start reading 'The Carrie Diaries'... Still Physically tired but mentally I'm rejuvenated... well now I have 'a journey' class to head to... have a fantastic w/end people!

A

xxx

*Musco I'm still watching you! he he!

No one gives a monkey's...

Gosh! I’ve missed this place…

As a contractor I really don’t understand strikes. My work life is heavily defined; I miss one day of work and I lose hundreds of pounds, it’s that simple. The London underground’s declared 24hr strike meant that I was going to work from home today; it also meant I could meet with the electrician (dishwasher was tripping sockets up all weekend) and I could catch one of my revered movies while working. Aaah! It also meant I needed the Internet; thankfully my blackberry doubles up as a modem, phenomenal, joke’s on you SKY! Ha!
I wish I hadn’t spent half of yesterday running around trying to find a ‘dongle’ or a laptop with a 3G data card in it or trying to convince SKY to sort me out today to no avail, my appointment was Saturday and it was staying Saturday!… Pssshhh!

I really want to blog about the move (I LOVE my apartment btw), Gosh! Lushh! Or about how I smiled smugly all the way to work yesterday until I got to the front of my work building and realised I’d left my ‘laptop’ at home (oh Vodafone IT saved me the shame) , or the myriad of pressure, anxiety and constant worry I’ve been wrapped in over the last few days. I’m definitely not moving anytime soon! this was hard work…
Anyways back to ‘working from home’ ; the movie I decided to watch was Chris Gardener’s ‘pursuit of happyness’, I’d seen it once last year and I’m elated but Gardner's thought pattern through the journey was what got me.
Someone said to me yesterday; ‘you should be careful what you put on your blog’… I can’t even begin to tell you how sick it made me… No! Not this time, not again! I do not care. All my life I’ve been plagued by someone or the other’s idea of normalcy. This is not a diatribe, although I did consider doing a really strong harangue..., what was the point in feeding it?

I really don’t know about anyone else but at 30, I’ve finally begun to understand and accept myself for whom and what I am. I’m Ade , quirky, cute as hell Ade, eccentric, I like to talk, I am shy sometimes, I’m intrigued by sex, Manolos, Louis Vuitton and jimmy choo, I like to make friends (I love gay men, they're fantastic), I love to love and give and build and encourage, I love the finer things of life, I love God like crazy!, I am sometimes emotionally erratic, I hate one night stands!, I’m straight talking, I will tell you how I feel, I work very hard, I’ve paid my dues, I forget birthdays but I’m a great friend, I'm an engineer, I’ve had some amazing experiences and I’ve been through my ugly, I’m soppy most times but don’t appear it at the first meet, I never listen, I argue, I’m self involved sometimes and selfless at others, I’m pretentious… but I’m me and I love being me… I have no apologies… won't life be sad if I was you or we were all the same person?

I think my friends have finally realised that M.H being obsessed with white chicks is not my idea of conversation (please don’t ask) neither is MJ's glutothaione use or Rihana's bleaching habit... who's it killing? are they bleaching your skin or theirs? Gosh! . I’m too busy trying to manage my own life, I simply haven’t got the time to discuss how or who ‘shot the sheriff’ or ‘slew the cat’, or who wrote what on FB or twitter or blogger (besides these applications were created to contain the narcissistic nature of man so let people do what they want and trust me I know, I work in User Experience, we talk twitter, fb and whatever other narcissistic applications exist pretty much all day!). I only refrain from keeping people with more than 2,000 friends on my FB because they tend to dominate my feed :( … I already have a filter problem and I loathe people adding my pretty girlfriends on FB when they have no clue who they are, damn sexual predators!…

I love writing and I’m good at it, the last thing I want to do is to begin to see this as stressful. (I write for me and will definitely go insane if I don’t get my thoughts out) Gosh! I live alone…
So for all my silent readers; if you somewhat have a preconceived idea of what a Nigerian woman should be or even worse you thought you knew me; we clearly have an issue, so my advise is don’t read my blog!. I’m a PS3 playing 291/2 year old lady, who very desperately wants Carrie Bradshaw’s life and my own BIG… therefore you, will read about fab events and my adventures… that is my idea of life, liberty and my personal pursuit of happiness. At this age I want to have enabling conversations, not hear 'someone is talking about me', I don't care really. The only gossip I'm interested in is gossip about a guy I like and btw its my responsibility to find out about him (he might be an axe murderer or an absolute dick head)... If less than a third of my life is enough to make some silly person talk smack, then I do not care... I'm not taking responsibility for it... I love writing, why do we feel the need to 'dirty' everything!!!

I guess it did evolve into a diatribe, sorry:(… this was somehow supposed to tie in with the declaration of Independence and Jefferson’s statement on the pursuit of happiness, but I think I'm too angry!… I didn’t quite make that happen, right? *sigh*. I guess the thing to note is the ability I possess to wave my hands in the air as crazily as I want stops at your freedom to not get slapped!...

Had a fantastic evening with him last night, dinner and really cool conversation… Ade might just be swooning! Oh and some amazing white wine… can’t think what it was called now!
*he makes me weak at the knees and spoils me like crazy… hmmm!... next week... shopping with G and A at Selfridges and then Zumba... can't wait... I spent 45 mins underground today, bloody met line... sorry I'll be less uncouth tomorrow... or next week!

The Gherkin, Serendipity and idle chat...

The Ritz

 ‘Hi! Want to do tea at the Ritz?’

‘Oh, you haven’t updated your blog!’ my twin duly notified like as though the former had anything to do with the latter. ‘pssshhhh!’

I was well aware of the fact darling; I had consistently sought out the right moment to fill my slowly emergent blogsphere on my pretty intense week. I hadn’t quite found it just yet.

I wish I could tell of how  I’d felt like a pretty girl in a white dress and blue satin sashes, how snowflakes had stayed on my nose and my eyelashes or how I’d had a rare, ethereal, natural moment of serendipity on Liverpool street… Oh wait! I did…

I felt like a ‘girl on the run’ as I mentally ducked and dived in avoidance of my mathematician train driver’s calls, why were some men so stubborn? ‘You are married’. ‘No I don’t want to go for a drink’. It almost felt like my resilient NO was an aphrodisiac to his plight! aarrrgghhh!. (Any ideas guys? Please!, short of begging him to leave me alone, my grand tricks are spent). He had called everyday last week, with each call I wished some more I’d seen his ring before I’d doled out my number… ridiculous! 

The rest of the week I’d felt like Angelina Jolie in ‘Girl Interrupted’, oscillating vigorously between ordering lush furnishings in radiant colours for my new apartment and a hectic work schedule. I was emotionally drained as even the smallest of tasks felt staggering. I did however manage to get forty-five minutes of Salsa in , a trip to the ‘Journey’, a trip to the doctors and an annoyingly childish argument with T.

I have a place, a place where I retreat into my own little world, a place where I am never sad or lonely and where I draw strength from, its not one place…  it’s the fantastic Jewish bookstore in Golders Green where you’d find literally any book in the world, it’s the Borders in Brent Cross and the ‘Borders’ on Finchley road, it’s the Library in Grays. Its anywhere where there are lots and lots of books, I get lost in the stories so deep that whatever is bothering me somewhat pales in comparison to the treasures they carry. This time, the Jewish bookstore in Golders Green served as my ‘anti-kryptonite’. I actually felt the stress dissipate through my pores as I got lost in buried nuggets of treasure. A few unplanned purchases, smiles and take-out Chinese later ensured I fell asleep that night with the singular thought. ‘The world truly is my oyster’.

Books...Lush! :)

‘Drinks at the Gherkin’ was the perfect end to my crazy week. I walked through the awesome glass building i worked in and headed to Paddington station. A thankful end to my work week. 

Approximately twenty minutes later, I did a swap for the Metropolitan line at Baker Street; he smiled at me as I sought out my platform, I smiled back. He looked good and well put together but he wasn’t really my type, we swapped pleasantries and numbers (Hey! I’m all about meeting people) and I went on my merry way. He did advise a random route, silly man, so we could talk some more. I politely declined and then smiled.

The Gherkin - 30 St Mary Axe

40/30 was everything I thought it would be; excellent conversation, a fantastically strong cheese board accompanied by alluring raw cuts with amazing textures, flavours and styles served as buffers to the cosmopolitan royales, bellinis and sauvignon blanc we so gladly absorbed. The view of the night sky through tinted glass windows was phenomenal.

the view from inside 

The Gherkin is a tremendously impressive building when viewed from pretty much anywhere in the city, however, upfront it confronts you and possibly almost intimidates you as it stands forty floors high. You won’t understand it till you stand on the fortieth floor and in turn confront the heavens as you look over London. I felt like if I reached out through the tinted glass shield, I’d be able to move the river Thames, Tower Bridge and the ‘House of Lords’ around to exactly where I thought they should be. The Gherkin presented London to me on a board. Oh! the sky line was gorgeously orgasmic.
 

A few hours later I said my good nights and hobbled along excitedly to the nearest station, I was floating on air once again. 

He walked past me with a strength and a presence so grand, words elude me. He carried an aura so sublime, his gaze held intense; I noticed his very short stare, his eyes beautifully searching. I walked on, but in seconds he had forced me to create a memory so powerfully passionate, I wondered why Leornado di Caprio had had to penetrate four layers of dreams in Inception to initiate a thought. His look was interesting but his carriage had me sold.

I turned around; I needed to see him one more time; he had turned back too. Talking on the backsides of Liverpool Street for a quarter of an hour felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. He engaged me in intelligent conversation with the sweetest of voices; as he entered his number into my blackberry, my lips spontaneously formed the words;

‘You’re not married or anything?’ He raised his left hand in reply to my question…no platinum, gold or silver band

… The moment indeed fun… realistically I feel very much like YN and know…as amazing as the moment was, all it will ever be is a moment… as long as its in my now…I almost thought maybe, it was, after all, so natural, so real ,not forced, my oxytocins went into overdrive but this is life, real life... these things don't happen!  the streets of London weren't going to regurgitate me a random stranger to fall exceptionally in love with, c'mon! ... right?

t-notes darling, I move next w/e… don’t expect an update lol…really want to do a video of my move, hehe that should be fun! :) on this note people, have a fantastic bank holiday (Damn! Germany is at work... no rest for the wicked)! In the interim I look forward to dinner at the Ritz with T...

Hampton Court!, Garden Parties, Ingwavuna... Married Men (Blech)!!!

‘Lord! Deliver me from married men’ was my prayer as I tiredly walked through waterloo station.
3 hours before
The garden party at Hampton Court Palace had been fantastic. Manicured lawns and trees cut to show off the luminescent beauty of the palace grounds provided a breath taking view as I walked in with S, It was gorgeous. I had no idea that the incandescent grounds were only the start to a fabulous evening; fresh, fruity white wine flowed through unceasingly alongside exquisite hummingbird cup cakes and home made canapés.
The conversations were delightful as Gaynor and Andy Coppin educated S and I on Ingwavuna and the work they were doing there. The smelly but outstanding mud hut, Tony Redmond and his crew had so cautiously built, reminded me to be grateful for the daily comforts I so easily took for granted. The even more impressive thing was that they were going to sleep in it till morning. I did try to convince Tony that given the howling wind, foxes and 'God knows what else' it probably wasn’t a good idea but his mind was made, they were determined to brave it and experience what the citizens of this poverty stricken, bucolic locale lived. (not sans the alcoholic beverage 'tsk tsk' though, legless by morning was the plan! :))

Silently cursing my extremely aching feet, I politely but sadly declined a tour of the palace grounds. S returned smiling delightfully, clothed with envy I listened as she reported the volume of gardens held within the palace walls, she lamented at the number and variety and duly announced that there were conference rooms and event halls. I smiled as I listened to her tale. Marseille Siddel, the inspiration behind the HUT project, closed the evening with a talk on Ingwavuna. I wiped a tear from my eye as she told horror stories of how these people lived, how the life expectancy was approximately 39 years old and how the funds the charity collected went towards helping the indigenes. I felt slightly ashamed at being educated so vastly on a region in Africa. There was clearly work to be done.
Getting off at Hampton Court Station I said a hearty goodnight to S. I had only walked a few meters when I got a ‘hello’ from a decent looking gentleman. I absorbed his interesting look, his body looked like it had been chiseled by Adonis and Hercules very carefully, I casually returned his ‘Hi’.
His brawny urban accent was crystal clear as he told me of his love for fashion despite studying mathematics; he was intriguing and was also my train driver. It was funny. He showed me pictures of his work and his son and then took his leave to start the train. Through the 35minute journey, he came out a few times to check on me, the attention felt great and it was somewhat exciting being fancied by the hot mathematician driver of my train (hmm! It must have been the wine)

My day had started in a groggy haze at 8:30; the past five days of my working week had left me with no time to rest. *sigh*. My darling cousin; M and I had left Edgware at about 10:00, rode the Northern Line, a few buses (thanks to the Olympics and rail repairs) and then the Over ground to Grays to meet our older cousin; AE. Now AE is the coolest cousin I have; adorable, ultra sweet and overly caring are only a handful of the words that can be used to describe her. She fusses continuously, almost to a fault sometimes, not to mention that it’s always a pleasure meeting with her pleasantness. I had tried to warn M that there was no way they would leave home for the intended party at 14:00, she doubted. AE picked us up and true to my word we made a quick stop at the Asian beauty palace so she could get her eyebrows threaded, it was so quick M and I had at least an hour to get salad ingredients from the grocers, window shop and acquire beautiful hair accessories from the market.:) (I love markets)
We eventually got to her house at about 14:30. I was assigned ‘Salad duty’. The joys of family; love, mouthwatering fried rice, chicken, digs, hugs, cousins and intelligent conversation with my’ deep’ uncle took us to well over an hour. I finally escaped and met with S.
Another hour later S clad in a sexy, short gown and I in my Grecian jump suit were on the M25 to Hampton Court Palace and our gorgeous Garden party.

Oh my mathematician train driver, apologies, digress is what I do! :). As I got off, he was waiting on the platform. He asked for my number, damn! I had given it before I saw the platinum band ! My smile turned to ice…
‘Sir, please do not call me, you are married!!Thank you!’ I walked away part annoyed, part irate… what is it with married men that makes them want to cheat??? Aaarrggghhh!

*On a lighter note, it turns out my indie ‘coffee guy’ remember him from a few weeks ago? Is a travel writer (how cool is that). I got some really cool tips about how to get on cosmo and vogue’s books today… Once again I’m floating on air…*

My Dreams are My fears...

The last couple of days have been slightly weird for me, a unique blend of Euphoria overcast by insecurity and fear. My mind constantly takes a deep dive into overdrive, it presents my dreams and the gravity they so clearly bear, it also presents my imperfections *sigh* and then I feel like I’m drowning.

Learning new things is great and refreshing but they come with a huge responsibility and an intense intensity. (LoL! What does that mean? I ask myself).

I move in a few weeks and I wonder what that will mean and the difference it will make to me, I know for certain though it will be added responsibility, it will also be more space and I’ll have my very own design studio… :)

I have just filled out an application to write freelance for a web site, my hope is that this will lead to me writing for a major magazine (cosmo or vogue), thinking that is really scary… and maybe one day I’ll meet my idol ‘Candace Bushnell’ just after I’ve sold my writings to channel 4 to make a series … even scarier.
I want to love passionately and intensely but I don’t know that I can give that level of love and commitment to anyone ever again, but I want it and desperately too, I think excessive amounts of oxytocin (the cuddly hormone) have invaded my insides. (This month’s Cosmo advised, I was on the way there, but not quite just yet!)
I want my corridor in my new apartment adorned with a Banksy, a rococo inspired vintage mirror and an erotic painting…

The Hamptons, Mykonos, Singapore and Monaco are only a few of the spots on the map I dream about, but, I feel like I would miss moments with my family if I was away every weekend and of course be very broke. :)
I look forward to Ivanaa (my Interior Architectural Dream) and being the lead design consultant on ‘Sting’s’ new home and ‘Elton John’s most recent castle parade after they've both walked into our ‘New Bond Street’ office screaming 'Ade is fabulous!, what you did with Posh's home is... (at a loss of words!).. LoL
I tenderly await the brood, a boy and a girl; but slightly nervous that they would somehow hinder the amazing things I long to build and look like their father! Oh NO!. (the irony is I'd want to build it for them, maybe, only if they are nice to me! :))
All of Candace Bushnell’s books are on my Amazon wishlist and I dream of watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Mary Poppins and Oliver Twist all over again, but I need time to network and socialise *sigh*…
Drastic measures have been taken to reduce my circle of influence, I have become more health concious, seized to waste precious moments on the metro as it focuses on the pain in the world, and stopped adding people to my Blackberry as I slowly wean myself off it. I sponsor a little girl In Africa and I write, but there’s a lot more I want to do…

Lock and key parties are an interesting distraction for me, LoL, one I want to investigate further, after years of pain , I booked an appointment with a top Podiatrist on Harley Street, Jason Hargraves, to finally put my ‘brachymetatarsia’ (shock and horror, there's  a medical term for it!lol) to rest, now what will 3 months of wearing a cast do to my social life. Dreams of sitting on my balcony typing away on my Mac in the winter , wrapped in a thick, thick duvet and warm, fugly socks, cup of coffee in tow, hunt me, ; ‘cheese and wine’ parties and Pimms in the Summer. Writing in Starbucks alongside fellow bloggers, my brand new BMW x5, creating memories with great friends, my list is endless... *sigh*
I see my dreams and then I feel like I’m slowly running out of time or wonder if life will once again delve me another cruel hand. These are my fears… and it’s also the reason I am completely overwhelmed by my relentless God. As I learn to number my days, I can’t help but think that growing up is confusing…

Banksy, Dune, Barbecues and Salsa...

I was about to leave Segun’s barbecue when someone, I can’t really remember who, called to tell me my twin had just arrived. Yaaay! I had a ride home. I got teased a little for saying goodbye and coming back but hey what did I care? I had been rescued from the two hour train traverse home.
Gently reflecting on the past week, I made a conscious decision not to fill up my week so much ever again. The week had begun pretty normal, or so it seemed, as Monday gave no clue as to what was to come. My cousins were in town for a short while and one of them was due to go back to Lagos on Thursday.

Filled with glee, I booked dinner at Floridita, a restaurant reputed to emulate the 1930s style of the legendary El Floridita; it promised an enticing, out-of-this world menu, live band playing while you ate and crazy energy. Even the reservations line had vibrant salsa music when you rang in to book a table; needless to say we cancelled and opted for cheap Chinese in Harrow. My sister had a late meeting and I was gutted.
Salsa took up a part of my never ending week for my class had become everything to die for! My hips had actually found rhythm, they had started to sashay to the sensual Cuban sounds amidst counts of 1,2,3… 5,6,7. Bliss!

I had dinner with T again; he had told me a few days ago that he was really getting to like me. Noooo… please don’t do this! We have an uber-cool relationship and you’re married! I told him off sternly. He concluded I had a thing for bad boys and if he was one, I’d have been head over heels for him. I duly advised it wasn’t the case and I just knew I deserved better than to be with a married man, it was that simple.

Friday evening was the highlight of my week. My cousin and I graced ‘Park Night’ at the Serpentine gallery (tea at a cafe along the Serpentine, first, of course!) where we listened to a reciprocal talk by Enrique Vila-Matas & Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster. Dominique was an interesting lady who came across as dark, a visual artist, clearly creative. A lot of her work was centred around the apocalypse and the one phrase she constantly vocalised was “Tout finit mal”, which translates to ‘everything ends badly’.
The rationale being that everything ends badly otherwise it wouldn’t end. Enrique on the other hand was a gentle, elderly writer, extremely positive and spoke with a lot of depth. He had written about Dominique and some of her exhibitions at the Tate, his tales were of the weather and the times and carried a certain ‘something’ that melted my heart. His retort to Dominique’s; “Tout finit mal”, was simply we live in the ‘best of the worst' so we should be thankful!’ It was most fascinating watching the relationship between them, she; enthralled and magnetised by his presence as she explained how he had guided her through some of her darkest days through his books and he; simply enjoyed the sheer force his writing had on his subject. It almost felt like they were making a kind of love as they spoke of experiences and the shared impact on each other’s lives. I was awed and impressed!… The aisles were filled with art students and 'Enrique' Fans as my cousin and I stood out like sore thumbs… ‘Where did other people of colour go for fun?’
The night ended with dinner at Pizza Express. It was a kaleidoscope of beautiful activities and had made me smile, again! ….

I made my way to a five hour Salsa workshop on Saturday, after stopping at the Royal mail depot. Aah, I thought as I received my beautiful dune 'decoy' sandals and ‘Banksy’s’ fallen angel on Canvas, I smiled. I was so elated; the nightmarish delays on the Northern line couldn’t erase the smug look of joy I was carrying. I loved ‘Blek Le Rat’ and a lot of Banksy’s work is rumoured to be inspired by this artist’s work.
I still think every lady should take up Salsa. There’s something about half twirls and being led by a man that activates a smile, it’s synonymous to a single-click button that releases ‘happy feelings’… hmm!

I had my evening all planned till I picked up my blackberry, *sigh*, Tunji had left me a message; it was his leaving do in East London. Well! There goes my quiet evening. I left Salsa an hour earlier and headed home. Effortlessly Chic clearly had nothing to do with the amount of effort that is actually put in, right? An hour and a half later; black Skinny jeans, ‘marl’ vest and matching ‘marl’ heels covered by a black Mac formed my attire for the evening. I walked into the picturesque apartment to a game of Whit Alexander and Richard Tait’s Cranium. It set the mood off with laughs as we attempted to solve hilarious puzzles.

Seeing old friends, great wine, brilliant food and amazing hosts, I had irresponsibly stayed till 1 a.m.

Naughty! Determined not to spend another £40 on a cab, I got Tunji to drop me off in Central London. I set my feet on the strand at 2:00am as I got out of the black Mercedes. ‘I love London’ was the singular thought that combed my mind. My heart raced, pulse quickening with Euphoria as I took in the much organised chaos and silent noise the city reverberated with. I quietly sought out another adventure after all I had my super Mac on, we could brave the threatening howl of the wind!

I sought out a map, it duly advised that I’d find my way North at Bus Stop ‘T’. I had never taken a night bus. bracing myself as the N13 came to a halt, I hesitated lightly.  I wish I could word the excitement, fatigue, singing and tales ravers from all nationalities felt and uttered. I was there to people watch. The momentum held from the strand to Golders Green and then to Edgware as the N5 snaked through quieter roads and beautiful houses. I smiled till rosy cheeks pleaded with me to stop. The energy was surreal and I was in a heaven of my own!

3:14am, I unlocked the door, washed melted make up off my face and fell asleep while watching what was left of ‘The Practice’.

Midday; I carefully contemplated attending Segun’s leaving do/barbecue. It was going to be one of the few chances to see him before he left. It was Sunny; there was no excuse to stay indoors. I wanted to see some more old friends and send Segun off!.
Opting for linen pants, a sleeveless, cream empire waist top and slip-ons, I targeted casual and happily made my way to Orpington.
We played and talked, ate and caught up like we’d parted only days before, you’d never have guessed that the majority of us hadn’t seen each other in 10 -13 years. It was fun trying to figure out who was who, trying to remember what had shaped each of us and guessing and missing each other’s names as we married them to memories we held. It was great to see everyone doing well as we thanked that one bond that united us, College!

Yomi, Akin, L and I laughed all the way home as stories of the fashion world, politics, Central St. Martins and ‘Ed’ (hmm! To come!), gently ended the night.

It was midnight. I was exhausted but glad; I had made new friends, reconnected with old ones, had good food and met an exciting, creative architect who shared my love for all things APPLE (Software&Hardware)  he had promised to call today. It was all completely worth it…

Passionately Nigtmarish...

Walking in, I silently responded to the buzz absolutely clueless as to what to expect. Carpeted hallways and grey met my entrance; I followed the numbers through till I found ‘8’.

My eyes locking on to the familiar ‘rider’ Ralph Lauren polo shirts were characterised by, I leaned forward and accepted a watery hug and a kiss on my cheek. I was directed to come in. 
Loud clanking emanated as my heels familiarised themselves with wood flooring laid through out the apartment. I took in calabash-coloured walls and white ceilings; it looked like everything was in order. The chaos must have been in my head.


With a strange determination I pushed away a nagging thought as it attempted to force its way through to the forefront of my mind. I didn’t want to think about why I was here; I simply wanted to be and I was…
The conversation was timid to start with. The Gallo brothers quickly fixed that, the juice from their Californian vineyards calmed whatever nerves I felt as my body absorbed it. ‘Was this white Grenache or White Zinfandel?’ I pondered lightly, I couldn’t tell for sure. Music, past relationships and beautiful women dominated the conversation, communication that led to me jumping on his bed and laughing excitedly. I felt free. He muttered something about buying cheap beds and then warned that I might break his! 

I ignored, pssh! What did he know about fun? Peeling off my black racer back vest, I exposed exquisitely full, supple mounds covered in velvety, chocolaty skin restrained by black lace intricately twined with white. He reached; I was determined to discard the stirrups too! It wasn’t working. He held out his hand again, this time I let him settle me onto my back. Intense warmth generated as he wrapped his munificent frame around my sensuality, he took in my scent. It felt good… really good! Interrupting my ‘moment’, his stiffening gently nudged as though it had a mind of its own. 


Turning me onto my side, he took a dark peak into his mouth, nibbling ever so lightly with outrageously soft lips, a plethora of moans escaped me; he’d somehow managed to find my warmth with his free hand, in the same instance. Unashamedly, he authoritatively guided me to his hardness. The singular act unleashed an Aphrodites so fierce she knew no bounds; for the ‘sexual goddess’ took over the night as though it had been carved for her.
He was strong yet gentle, he lifted me onto pure wanton desire. My wetness, in turn, engulfed him, forcing him to seek deeper, I moaned again or maybe it was a scream this time, as he led me to take him so much deeper through my maze… I couldn’t! My limits were exhausted. 
Maxwell whispered something about this woman’s worth in the background; I was completely consumed in this woman's moment… our bodies entwined in passionate rage.


His fingers felt amazing and yet unruly as they hungrily penetrated my secret; causing me to flow relentlessly ; he was unwavering in the astuteness of his desire. I remember hearing pellets of rain hit the littered pavements, I remember moments where I’d grabbed his collar forcing him even deeper, moments where my nails had dug into the skin on his back, moments when I’d begged him to stop because I was so sure the sheer force of passion would rip me apart and I remember moments when my lips had tried to echo his name and had failed miserably. The night was our canvas and we had painted a picture so wantonly earthly, it was genius… sexual genius! 


He wasn’t my best or my worst but he had unarguably relayed his case. 

Initiating my final climax, he completed the sequence with steady hands and an intense gaze. Further conversation paved the path to sleep as I lay my head on his chest of hair, his fingers carelessly stroking my mane… this time ‘Ave Maria’ penetrated the background!... I thought it was Celine’s version, he’d said it was Charlotte Church! What did I care? He told me how as a child he’d liked to play in the rain, ‘didn’t we all’ I thought. (We were suddenly bogged down with £300 weaves and expensive garments)


I left in a hurried rush, frazzled, confused not keen to confront the morning … I remember it was 6am, I remember running in the rain and loving it… but something simply wasn’t right! His substance had evaded me... I wanted my picture more intense, exciting and almost divine, I wanted hearts synched and I wanted to unravel secrets through moments of depth, I wanted my picture delicately drenched in quality, I wanted that sensual, giddy feeling that was certain to make my heart skip a beat every time he walked in a room, this wasn't it … this was genius but i didn't want this...


I heard my name in the distance, ‘Ade’; the distance got closer and then closer… Shit! WTH? My silly brother standing over me, bowl of water in one hand. He read my frown adequately, I was about to jump out of bed and kick him (he was too tall to slap)... ‘You’re going to be late for work! Get up!’… Shit! 7:15 Damn! My dreams had confirmed M.H wasn’t really my type…

**my attempt at erotica ... what do you think?

Filters please...

… ‘Extremely Drained’ was pretty much the only sane description for what I felt on Saturday morning, literally every passing moment of the day before, Friday, held its own tale! A day of events, almost every second had forced an emotion or a feeling out of the very depths of my soul!
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love being busy… I simply don’t particularly enjoy constantly living in a heightened state of emotion…

Friday…
If ever I had a skill; it was waking up when my alarm clock went and hitting the snooze button (every 5 minutes to be exact!) till I got up, I’m an expert at this… See my alarm’s set to go off every morning at 5:30…  this morning it did! I snoozled (a word I coined) till 7:51, utter confusion set in when I realized I had half an hour to get showered and dressed. (Sheer Panic!)
8:51: sordid tiff with the ‘metro’ (free morning paper for commuters),my damn horoscope had the effrontery to tell me I was slightly cheeky and had reached my limit with the work jokes. I actually went through the day fixated with monitoring every word I spoke … WTH? I was so mad!!! (LoL! had to laugh at this one!)
9:00: met a friend of a friend I had met a really long time ago on the tube. I tapped her lightly;
no response, she was engrossed in her copy of the metro… persisting,I tapped slightly harder, silently praying I didn't have the wrong girl! This time she responded(sigh of Relief!), we swapped BB pins and numbers (we'll probably never talk till we randomly bump into each other again of course!) 
12:00: Lunch with J & A, two amazing interns, now this had to be the best part of my day. An hour filled with sarcasm and unbridled wit! Amazing! An Absolute riot! My brain took a short trip into over drive as it thought up equally snarky comments to throw at these two… nothing!(Ecstatic)
13:30-16:00: I had made the complex decision to hot desk with a bunch of extremely creative designers! … Wrong move! Gay sarcasm and laughter filled my entire work day! Constant coffee! (drained! happy!)
16:30: Met really cute guy at the coffee machine… you do see a pattern here, don’t you? (flustered was the feeling! Hot and bothered!)
17:56: Woman (silly… pun intended!) adequately wedged herself between the doors on the Bakerloo line. I cringed! It looked extremely painful. Four very large, very burly men came to her rescue as they ripped the hungry, vicious doors apart. Another sigh of relief, now that scared the bejesus out of me. I honestly thought the drama was over until I heard the even sillier train driver over the intercom, loud and clear;

“The lady who just wedged herself between the doors, that was an absolute smart thing to do… its not particularly a smart thing to wait for the next train, it was probably easier to get caught between the doors… wasn’t it?”… Damn! What a donut! Poor woman cowered in shame. (I laughed it was hilarious! I did feel sorry for her I actually felt her shame!) Everyone else looked straight on, lips turned up slightly at the corners (highly conservative Brits!) he he! (I laughed some more!)

18:06: Amazing write up on Chace Crawford (Gossip Girl’s Nate Archibald). I was elated, not sure if my mood was as a result of the unmistakably brilliant writing or at the gorgeous photos of  Chace! Yaay! The next few minutes saw me through hot flushes, disgust, anger and ridiculous laughter at, Italian president, Berlusconi and his chauvinistic one-liners, this time, to deputy Nunzia de Girolamo: (source of info - The Evening Standard - evening paper for commuters!)
- ‘What splendid earrings, Nunzia’ he said ‘You know they say women with large earrings have a large desire to…’

Gosh! To think I thought David Cameron’s mis-speak on Iran having nuclear weapons (major foreign policy gaffe) was really bad! I shut the paper firmly, clearly not soon enough, my horoscope had delivered another morbid warning as it advised that I avoid heavy conversation because people around me were ultra-sensitive.... (Psshh! Did these people know my family, colleagues or friends?, who were they to make such bold statements!)

18:15: Disembarking at Waterloo, I hesitated for a moment, the gap between the train and platform was huge. Instinctively I tightened my grip on my iPod and jumped (terrified was the emotion that held on to me!; okay! Only slightly!).
I found my way out of the station, a messy loop of arrows forced me to walk lopsided and sideways… bad, bad, design! Between wondering who was responsible for the pathetic architecture and why it had been signed off, I typed the words; ‘I really want to see you!’. In one breath, I  felt; nostalgia, happiness, confusion and distress...

18:30: Business ‘meet’ with Andre; we talked about focus groups, my fears, my concerns, moving forward and next steps. It suddenly hit me… this is really happening; I'm actually building a business (I was excited, elated and nervous!)
19:00: Train surfaced at Finchley Road, The familiarity of North London welcomed me!
My phone chirped;
‘What are your plans for tonight?’… (Can't even begin to explain what I felt here... excitement maybe!)

I made a conscious effort  to put a halt to absorbing  information over the weekend… I had exceeded my mental capacity to feel, think or process anything other than 'Dynasty'; no more! … I did however, stop briefly to ponder Clay Shirky’s words:

‘it's not information overload it's a filtering problem’.
The rationale behind that statement was; for centuries we've had to deal with drones and drones of information. hence, our problem was not the amount of information, it was simply that we were getting worse at filtering it... hmm! I'm still thinking this one through! Not really sure I agree!.. (I'm currently in contact with the world via twitter, linked-in, facebook and BIS!... sounds like more information to me! hhm... maybe not!) 

10:00 am Monday morning:  Bought a copy of  Rodney Yee's; Power Yoga Total Body and  and made a conscious effort to filter, filter, filter…

Quick Question: Does anyone else have days like this?