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!