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?

Mentees and Mentors...

…Hushed sounds from the stream nearby, dimmed lights and the constant chatter from fellow diners characterised the evening.
Making good my promise to T, I had met him at his Hendon Central office. He had had one of those days and was feeling very discouraged. I wasn’t usually worried about him, T was strong, more than your typical dose of the average 34 year old, owned his own business and grossed £200,000 mark annually (after the tax man’s cut); his lifestyle spoke for itself. We’d had worse conversations (in my opinion!); once he’d called me on a Monday morning;

 
 
Ade: 'hey' 

T: 'Hi', he’d returned very solemnly 
Ade: 'What up, you?'
T: 'Just lost £8000' on the stock market
Ade: 'What?'
T: 'Yup! hey I guess it evens out huh?', made £13,000 last month. Damn! Still hurts though! 
Ade: 'Oh! that’s not too bad then…'
T: Anyways! How are you?, He chirped)

The conversation went on as though he’d just mentioned that he’d misplaced a bag of ‘maltesers’. I wonder fleetingly what age I’d be able to absorb an £8,000 loss. Hmm!
This time it was different...very different; whatever was going on had left him somewhat distraught. His words were ‘I feel like packing it all in and walking away’. That concerned me predominantly because he was clearly questioning himself.
I gently reflected on what I knew about T, he was determined, driven and had a penchant for the finer things of life. He had been growing his business actively for the last few years (approximately 6), and I had a very vague idea of where he was headed in his mind. But I knew he’d get frustrated, his current network was simply not big enough, (in my opinion), he’d grown it to the point where he alone could, and now needed a fresh pair of hands and eyes.
I arrived at the metal gates sheltering his office at 19:07….

Ade: ‘What up? I’m spending an hour discussing you, your business and where it’s headed and then you’re taking me to dinner’. I greeted

T: ‘Why do you always have to demand, what’s wrong with asking? You look very nice by the way! ’ He retorted
Ade: ‘Whatever! Thanks! My time’s precious. I need the rest’, I replied, unsure as to what question/statement I had responded to first.

Agreeing and disagreeing a million times over the next hour, we eventually  reached a calm compromise on what  level he was currently operating at, where he was headed, clarified his vision and thought up new ways to breach the gap between those two distinct stages. T was going to network with more relevant people and find a mentor ( I was in an absolutely horrific state of shock when i realised one of MY mentors didn’t have a mentor!!!... some teacher huh? :)) .

Mentors, for me, were crucial, they were there to guide you, introduce you to new circles, see further than you’d ever be able to (at least, within their field of expertise), it was a no brainer to engage in the almost parasitic relationship.
The mentee being the parasite as well as the bigger beneficiary, of course. It’s an almost divine opportunity to draw from tried and tested resources, techniques and contacts; all you have to do, really, is be willing to learn, be taught and be accountable to the mentor. Fantastic!
T thought I was a great 'sounding board' and had some fresh ideas. I disagreed, I had simply taken him to where I was; the exciting start of my business, one of the many facets to my current journey. All he needed was to be reminded.

Dinner! We embarked on the half hour drive to Formosa Street. I had called the Water Way just before we left in a hurried attempt to reserve a table.

‘Oh we’ve got nothing till 22:00, but you’re welcome to try our first come, first served section’

T can sometimes be a bit of a ‘Diva’ ( he was being an uber twat of a diva at this stage - 2 mega divas, not cute! as I'm a diva amongst divas), he really wanted to go somewhere where we definitely had a reservation, but I won! (diva extraordinaire!) We did go, winged it and got a pretty cool table! The gods were ruling in my favour yet again! It was beautiful! Great food, (They do the best ever ‘char grilled squid), great company, superb conversation,more importantly,T relaxed and had fun (he’d been there once but not eaten)…
Towards the end of the night, his  phone rang. He politely excused himself and took the call…

‘Wow, what a day! Just signed up a new client, he’s transferring £20,000 into my account now, didn’t think he was going to do it today!’ The golden, golden smile broke through the stress lines etched on his face only  a few hours ago as he related an abbreviated version of the call he'd just taken.
You could tell he'd once again being reminded of the reasons he had chosen to run his own wealth management consultancy…
I smiled… again… chuffed, grateful (my time had been well worth it!)… I neatly tucked away another memory  and filed it for safekeeping! As I knew for certain that I too would some day be able to absorb an £8,000 hit… 'mentees were indeed as important as mentors afterall!'  I silently thought...

ten minutes ago... Cute Guy Alert :) - Tall... very tall, Jesse Eisenberg, indie - type, shoulder length, dirty blond curly hair, tattoo neatly done (inner arm - read Truth) made a pair of skinny jeans and a grey rock n roll, loosely fitted (don't ask - best description I've got) t-shirt look ultra sexy! hmm! he decided to get a coffee while I was getting one (after smiling at me twice)... The goddess in me took over (i did try to quieten her... I promise!)... but she asked his name and introduced herself (aaargghhh!!! she totally embarrasses me most times) ... he played along pretty well entertaining her charm!!! Blissss!!! (hey! its Friday, got my weekend head on already- Blame that!) ;)!... Yet one more thing to look forward to on Monday Morning! (the very hot D!) Yaaaay!!!.... *sigh!* I finally get paid Monday (victory dance), would probably give my darling bank manager a well deserved cornorary! hehe!!

*I'm terrible... I know...*

Precious, Precious Words...

When I eventually meet my significant other, otherwise known as my husband, we will have a conversation (I most certainly hope so! ;)) and it will go something like this and I would expect his answers to be thus…

Ade: Will you raise me up, will you help me down? Will you get me right out of this Godforsaken town? Will you make it all a little less cold?
My Husband: I can do that!
Ade: Will you hold me sacred? Will you hold me tight? Can you colorize my life, I'm so sick of black and white? Can you make it all a little less old?
My Husband: I can do that!
Ade: Will you make me some magic, with your own two hands? Can you build an emerald city with these grains of sand? Can you give me something I can take home?
My Husband: I can do that!
Ade: Will you cater to every fantasy I  have got? Will you hose me down with holy water, if I get too hot?Will you take me places I've never known?
My Husband: I can do that!
Ade: After a while you'll forget everything and think It was a brief interlude and a midsummer night's fling.
And you'll see that it's time to move on
My Husband: I won't do that!
Ade: I know the territory, I've been around. It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down And sooner or later, you'll be screwing around
My Husband: I won't do that. Please trust me!  I would do anything for your love, but I won't do that, no I won't do that.

Hmmm! I have wondered what ‘praying to the god of sex, drugs and rock n roll' entails.

*inspired by meatloaf!  
Oh by the way inception was awesome...

The little things... and of course Salsa!

Shutting down my laptop signaled the end to my work day. Tired in its most effective form, couldn't remotely begin to describe how I felt, my eyelids felt like lead. I briefly contemplated heading straight home, but I had plans! Tonight I had planned to lose my ‘Salsa-virgin’ status…

My resolve to try new things must have been way bigger than me, I thought, as I stepped into the weird mix of people and eccentricity that Farringdon was filled with. Looking around, I smiled and knew, beyond all reasonable doubt; exactly why I lived in London.

I dutifully followed instructions the ‘station guy’ had given me and headed to Clerkenwell road, my eyes carefully seeking 102/108. The TFL website had approximated a 9 minute trek, but somehow it felt like I’d been walking for all of half an hour already.

I looked for a sign, anything, that could give even the slightest hint as to where I was… nothing! (Just so you know the buildings in Farringdon as you head up to King’s Cross do not have numbers on them… aarrrgghh!). Walking into the ‘Costa’ on my left, my eyes locked onto animated bloggers furiously typing away, I envied them. Oh! The sweet thrill of writing away in oblivion as the aroma of roast coffee beans filled the air. Orgasmic! (my very vivid imagination, indulge me please!)

‘Do you have any idea where 102 Clerkenwell road is please?’ I  desperately asked the closest barista. The blank look she returned quickly informed me that she was as clueless as me…

A few thoughts back, I’d walked past him, ( the mere fact that it was a face that had embedded its self in my mind's eye forced me to name him, to me he was 'big Joe'!), He had looked at me, his eyes silently offering help as I struggled to find door numbers where there were none. I was clearly lost, aaarggh! The snob in me had initially ignored him, defiant, as though his intimidating frame could even be remotely overlooked. (psssh! I had no idea where i was going).

'Big Joe' looked like he knew the streets, in a black t-shirt and a black suit jacket, he was sat on a wooden stool at the front of a pretty impressive bar. The dark green sign above his head read ‘The Griffin’. I composed myself adequately and shamefully retraced my steps so that I now stood face to face with ‘Big Joe’s’ big frame, he sat, I stood ‘tall’, very tall, and still fell a few notches short of eye level. It was only then I noticed the masked gash under his left eye. (hmmm, I fleetingly wondered how it got there)
This time I knew I could ask for a name rather than a number, for 'Big Joe' really did look like he knew the streets.

‘Hiya! Do you have any idea where ‘Murphis is please?’. His eyes showed the slightest hint of a smile. (He would have beat Tyra in teaching her most treasured skill; ‘smizing’). And then he answered in the softest of voices, it sounded like as though someone else was speaking the words; ‘You’re going in the complete wrong direction'. 

a moment later...
Armed with directions and a determination to at least go for one salsa class in my life time, I smiled thankfully at ‘Big Joe’. If ever I had met an angel, it was him. As I crossed to the other side of Clerkenwell road, I gently filed the memory of my angel in ‘safekeep’.

8 minutes later…

I walked down the steep steps to the bar basement, a weird, almost stale smell welcomed me. I considered turning around and heading for the door.  I was in King’s Cross afterall (rumoured world of streetwalkers and drug induced minions). A daunting fear gripped me, what if I got down there and all I met were toothless beings snorting weird white powder? My ignorance stunned me,‘Don’t be silly, it’s Salsa for chrissakes, the company’s online it must be decent and you can always run if you need to’. I inched closer.

It was definitely an experience, a beautiful variety of Asians, Caucasians and me, once again, the token black girl. I got lost in it all, it was fantastic… slightly unsteady on my feet at first (I joined late, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), I quickly got into rhythm. It was amazing, encouraging and so much fun as we swapped partners, helped the even ‘unsteadier’ get into the flow and counted our steps. The syncretised dance form and Cuban sounds took me to a different world, a new sphere. Was this the revered meeting point for African and European cultures? Divine! not to mention, the very ‘hot’ instructor.
I must have given my name out at least 20 times. More than once I admired the healthy mix of students, real estate developers, gorgeous eye candy and city types in all shapes, ages and sizes,all with one predominant goal - fun. I smiled through it… and knew i'd be back!

3 hrs later…Another smile lit my face as I pulled the covers snugly over my tired self, showered and in bed, I reflected lightly…
Paulo Coelho (pictured below) had once said: ‘Getting rid of certain memories means making some room for new experiences’…

Life was indeed good!

Tonight I’m taking Freaksho’s advice and going to see ‘inception’ with T, a dear,dear friend!!! Yaaay!!!

Salsa Tonight!...but my tale does have an end... almost!

‘Men respect standards, get some’ Steve Harvey

…I wasn’t with M.H! … It didn’t matter much as the next message directed me to voicemail. I had to go back to work... technically I couldn’t have stayed anyway.
The next few weeks saw me through tedious tasks and a Herculean schedule, there was no way I could have met up with M.H. To be totally honest it was awesome being asked to meet up for drinks a few times and thinking up new ways to politely decline;

M.H: Hey! What’s your week looking like?

Ade: um hey! Really really busy, meeting with my accountant, viewing property, work, Claridges… but we will link up, I promise.

The slight quiver of impatience spoke its tiny tones incessantly through his voice (oh! His voice was so cool, i shuddered!), I heard it, but M.H unwavering, remained the gentlest of gentlemen and didn’t push further.

M.H: ‘Well! Let me know when you have some time to see me’
Ade: No worries!

To be honest, I was as busy as I sounded, I was viewing property, I was networking, I was meeting old friends socially, lunching and laughing, going to museums and galleries.
I was selfishly doing the things I wanted to do, the things I was sure would make me smile and I was totally ‘doing me’. There are a few things, a real bad break up will teach a woman in a heart beat, ‘Love you extremely, Know yourself and then Love you some more!’

It was barely a couple of weeks after my ‘catwoman/bond girl manouver'.

Friday! I could barely contain my excitement, The British museum had on a ‘little Italia’ theme. Italy had somewhat become magical to me. I wasn’t sure if it was the free history lessons I had gotten from my staunch desire to complete Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed 2 (avid PS3 gamer, I confess!), the vitruvian man, the dreyfus Madonna, the Mediterranean or simply the phrase ‘See Naples and Die’. I totally loved Italy. The evening was everything I had hoped for; talks on Leonardo de Medici (The great Italian patron), sword plays, the falcons, wine tasting… fantastic! And my cousin randomly met me there completely unplanned!

…3 hrs later

Showered, divinely scented; I lay in bed exhausted. My evening had been beautiful, quiet thoughts intertwined with soft sounds from Bon Jovi’s ‘thank you for loving me’ until an almost abrupt interruption, the persistent shrill of my Samsung (I don’t believe in switching off phones! Smart ass!), besides I was hoping he’d call. He had casually advised that this Friday was poker night (I’d rather walk tightrope across the Petronas towers than intrude on ‘poker night’- ever seen ‘how to lose a guy in ten days?).

M.H: Hi Hun (Oh! That voice again!)
Ade: Heyyy!!! Sweetie!
M.H: are you home?
Ade: yup
M.H: ‘Get in a cab and come here now’ he said authoritatively (hmm! Very ,very sexy and in that voice too! Lush! a man's man, so my thing!)
Ade: ‘Huh?’ I retorted, ignoring the shiver coursing through my spine.
M.H: ‘Get in a cab and come here now’ he repeated, this time, I heard the laughter in his voice.

Every fibre of my being wanted to do just that, get in a cab and go to him, but I knew I couldn’t… Steve Harvey had said ‘act like a lady’ and I was… no! I am a lady! , or I was at least going to fake it till I became one! I couldn’t go...

M.H: ‘I really want to see you’ this time his voice was less authoritative but very, very, very sensual.
Ade: hmm!

I felt myself start to give in.

M.H: I’ll send my address, should I (oh that wasn’t a question and if it was it was rhetorical)

I got the address, picked up my phone and put a call through to Addison Lee. (Thank God for automated messages), as I listened to the options I was being offered, I considered the option of waking up in his apartment the morning after and how I’d feel (not great or maybe great?). I realised I didn't know for sure. I simply wasn’t ready to gamble on that one… sorry! Not playing tonight! The only option really open to me was to stay at home…in my bed!

Ade: Hey! I really want to see you, but not like this, I’m sorry…

He tried some more, but my mind was made and in resilience I fortified my case. He finally gave in, but no level of intelligence, exposure and education could have prepared me for the words he uttered next…

M.H: Wow! I’m impressed! (I landed on the floor, literally, trust me!), Steve was right???(Why didn’t he write the damn book when I was 2!)

This man who had just tried to persuade me for all of 15 minutes to come through, really wanted a ‘no’? Shock and Horror! Oh My God!!! (Very Thick British Accent)
This was definitely a game and I wasn’t the only one playing.
'I was going to win'… was my silent resolve!
Saying goodnight courteously, my eye caught the clock on my phone as i laid it to rest… 2:30 am Saturday, stared me square in the face, very smugly (might I add) through the screen… I smiled victoriously…

The 90 Day Rule...!

"Lots of us make bad choices romantically. It's not usually punishable by death." …Catwoman #57

Yaaay!!! It had arrived!!!… It was literally only two days ago, when I had searched for it on Amazon and ordered it… and now W.H smith had so dutifully delivered me my very own copy of Steve Harvey’s; ‘Act like a Lady, think like a man’… Since watching him speak to millions of women on Oprah, I knew I had to get it.
I smiled; I had been doing a lot of that lately and it felt amazing.Preciously looking the new addition to my library over,I tucked it neatly into my Louis Vuitton Neverfull GM, ready to read on the tube the next morning, it was going to be my ‘commute read’(hey it did promise to be more fun than eyeing up swanky city types).
Ordinarily, the acquisition of a book would not have meant so much to me but at this point in my life I was learning and ‘un-learning’ a plethora of things, I thought back to days when I thought I knew it all (haha! how naive!).
I had started speaking to this guy, M.H, and somehow Steve Harvey had promised a ton of answers to questions I needed answering to.
Now M.H was supposedly one of those really cool, swagger ridden guys, hmmm, boy! Was I in for a shock! 

Backtracking slightly… how it all began.

It was a Sunday afternoon, Kiki (or trouble) had come over and in a totally random conversation she’d mentioned his name and I stopped,no! time stopped. I had met him once years and years ago and I wanted to meet him again, simply because he had left an impression in the softest manner possible. I immediately demanded that Kiki make it happen…. 8 hours later… Monday morning greeted me with blaring repetitions of my alarm clock and Kiki handing me M.H’s BB pin.
Shit! I had actually forgotten!Some impression eh? Later that day, I added him on and he seemed like the gentlest gentleman I’d ever met. I thought wow! What a breath of fresh fresh air…

Now you really need to understand Kiki and I to understand how we stay friends, both born on the most beautiful day ever, the 21st of January (different years).
We are both extremely soulful , extremely silly, not to mention vain, intelligent (c’mon we’re both engineers) and total love birds!
I simply love the girl but too much of each other and we’re definitely going at it… its that somewhat self involved, attention seeking attitude Aquarians individually carry.. OK! Ade! (Get on with it!).

A few e mails and a telephone conversation later, M.H invited me for a drink that night. One Problem! Kiki and I had agreed we were going to make him wait for at least 3 weeks till I met up with him. I believe it was our way of enforcing 'the rules'… do not ask!Please!

Fast forward 6 hours later… really stressful day at work, I could almost taste the refreshing wave a Corona would bring as its cold, harsh, foamy texture connected with my throat.
I called him ‘hey! I’ll see you in a bit’ (he sounded shocked and maybe even a tad arrogant – 1st alarm, I ignored!)
Well! We had shared a few e mails, he definitely wasn’t a health hazard or an axe murderer so what’s the big deal eh? I hopped along slightly elated ,did a tube swap at Baker Street  heading  dutifully to Swiss Cottage. Got out the station, exit 5, and called M.H.
I was instructed to walk down the road ahead and meet him in front of Tescos’. Great I had time to call Kiki and to think… (2nd alarm, was I too old fashioned, expecting a man to at least meet me at the station entrance? I’d just done a half hour trek on the sticky, sweaty tube. I ignored again!)

Ade - ‘hey babe’
Kiki – hey where are you? (She always asked that like I was her damn husband)
Ade – hey I’m meeting M.H for drinks babe
Kiki – Get outta there babe, its too early (OMG! I hated ‘the rules’ or games)
Ade – babe but c’mon, stressful day at work, drinks and good conversation req’d.
Kiki – seriously hun! It’s too much power to give to him and too early too.
Ade – yeah! You’re right, Shit! Shit, Shit! How am I ever going to get out of here without getting caught!!!!! (full panic set in!) And WTH am I s’pposed to tell him!!!
Kiki – Babe! You’ll think of something, (it was an order)

I did my best ever ‘bond girl/cat woman maneuver as I attempted to get away from this faceless stranger, who was probably not even chasing me, phone in one hand laughing hilariously with this silly woman on the other end of the phone… Insane! (She wasn’t the one making a run for it… Lucky her!)… I knew for sure almost, that he was definitely going to turn up, already ‘beetroot red’ (hypothetically) from laughing and crying so hard and now the damn station was evading me, where was it! Shit! Shit! Shit!… by this time trust me; I was legging it out of there like my whole life depended on it… hard! Panting like crazy, phone still in hand...

Ten minutes later my Samsung H2 buzzed; two messages, one after the other in quick succession. I clicked,it read;

‘Please tell me you are not with him right now’…

TBC

#2. These ones!... I luv absolutely!

… The very rare beef burger I had had finally stopped mooing in my stomach, thank goodness. Sat in my hairdressers chair on the backsides of North London, I quietly reflected on my morning and my bank account, lol! (I smiled coyly at the real cute guy getting his hair braided literally two feet from me, It would be pretty weird meeting someone at the hairdressers', I discarded the thought of giving him my blog URL almost immediately! he'd probably spend longer sorting his hair than I would mine). It wasn't funny actually, 6 weeks and not yet been paid! Couldn't complain much, my demise was down to being self employed, 30 day payment terms and me not invoicing on time… It was still painful though!
I quickly decided that my morning was definitely a less depressing thing to write about in comparison to my constantly dwindling bank account or the discussions between me and the HSBC customer services department, which typically went something like;

Ade – I’ve been charged(coyly neglecting again). I’m a loyal customer, please refund the charges (shameless begging)…
HSBC – We did that yesterday
Ade – I’m really trying to sort my finances out and you should be helping me, can I escalate to the financial ombudsman.
HSBC – Hello Miss Adeyemi , we would refund the charges this time as a gesture of goodwill.
Ade- Huge sigh of relief religiously followed by my victory chicken dance!

OK well not always but you sort of, kind of, get the general conversation flow. I was quickly running out of goodwill gestures. On second thoughts, my morning was probably more inspirational than interesting.
Shorter nights and longer days ensured that even at 7:45a.m I woke up to the slightest hint of golden sun rays enthusiastically threatening to fall through the skies. My heart steadily turned to my maker as I committed my day to Him and He returned my ode in what could only be described as a deep hug and a smile. I tossed and turned slightly longer and then reached for my HP mini and cigarettes (casually reminding myself that I needed to stop).
Face book! I covertly checked for updates and notifications and then clicked to see who was on-line… D! I had not the slightest idea that my ‘hey’ would lead to a ten minute chat and a beautiful two hr conversation. D was an older friend, male, but extremely inspiring, we spoke about everything, living principled, goals, authority and the need for it, what we were both doing now and if ‘Christians should get tattoos'. A gentle conversation yet greatly inspiring, you see D had been my pastor through my teenage years and maybe over the last few years too. I could trust and talk to him about a lot of things, he had slowly turned to becoming a friend too but still my shepherd somehow… em! Don’t ask, truth is it’s not a relationship I can define, my best attempt at explaining would just be rubbish.I can however confidently say,he is a true and genuine ‘Friend’ many of which I didn’t seem to have.


miss kiki!

An hour later, showered and headed to one of my many ladies (the hairdresser this time), my darling amazing, and constantly talking youngest brother had decided to give me a lift.(they do have their uses!)
I picked up my blackberry… ah Kiki! She had finally decided to reply my rather lame attempt at apologizing for missing the party…

‘Hey babe, party was ridiculous, U won’t believe it, so D(almost dated) came with model friend H.B Check him on Google. And then M(current man) came 3 hrs lata. And D, H.B and M all went to same school… like shiiiiitttt! Thankn God! I never duck’d D. Cause M was like how’d you know D? Omg! Omg! then H.B decided he would like us to go on a date, so now its even more stupid. So my aunty and 2 uncles’ slept ova, wish u had come’! Kall!!!

I silently cursed the mooing burger,hurried S off the phone after giving an even lamer explanation as to why Cabernet Sauvignon was way better than Merlot.. all that drama and I missed it… *sigh*… Hi Babe… I heard her shriek and I knew the party had indeed been ridiculous…