one.hundred.thirty.nine



here it is!

my short story website is up and ready to launch tomorrow [01.01.10].


when you have a moment, please visit www.thisdidnthappen.com for daily short and tiny stories from yours truly.

feel free to shout about it :)

2009 has been an amazing year, and i wish everyone the best for 2010.

one.hundred.thirty.eight


food from mickey d's has always made me feel a little nauseous, but after watching the video below i am definitely never walking through the golden arches again.

this woman has a 4 yr old happy meal [the irony!] that looks like she bought it yesterday. yesterday! it hasn't rotted. it has no mould. the bread doesn't even have mould. the bread!

how is this legal?





sssssssssssssmh.

one.hundred.thirty.seven


every year my dad calls me a day early to wish me a happy birthday.


every year i tell him that it's his sister's birthday, and that mine is the next day.


every year.


when he called today i bust out laughing.
it's just so ridiculous. surely by now he'd stop and remember what happened when he called the year before. somet
hing should make him second-guess himself and cause him to pull his hand away from the phone and have a good think. but no. his confidence remains untouched, and so every year he calls with an assurance that i just can't fathom.

my favourite year was the one where he argued with me for 2 minutes about whether or not he'd got it wrong. "it IS your birthday today!" like i don't know when my own damn birthday is.
after i finished laughing at him this morning he told me [like he does every year] that he'll call me tomorrow.

but sometimes he forgets.

this guy is a trip and a half!



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elin and tiger woods

i know that everybody is talking about tiger woods, his 15+ mistresses and his possible lovechild, but i want to talk about his wife, elin.

see, women have this thing called intuition. every woman reading this has had that pang in the guts when something doesn't feel right. we notice things, and more than that, we feel things. things not seeming right logically is one thing, but if things don't feel right then we don't care if it's logical or not.

a wife having no clue that her husband is cheating on her with another woman is one thing; but 15 women? this woman's guts didn't pang, her left knee didn't hurt, her nose didn't itch over none of these 15 women? she must have known on some level. as all of the drama unfolds we see that tiger is not that slick (no one is), and left far too much of a trail for him not to be caught. that's if she wanted to catch him, and i don't think she did. perhaps she knew and never said anything to him. perhaps he knew she knew, but they had an agreement that he would be discreet. but my guts are panging about this story because something doesn't feel right to me.

i believe that the physical abuse elin dished out to tiger (which i don't co-sign) and her filing for divorce are related to her embarrassment because now everyone knows. it's either that or she is the most naive, disconnected from self, woman that ever walked the planet.

so get your money girl, but please get your gut good too.



one.hundred.thirty.five


01.01.10

mark your calendars for a very special launch on new year's day. my short story website is up, designed and ready to go.

i have a very strong impatient streak, and that part is itching to at least share the name...but good things come to those who wait, and the wait will be over on january 1st.

sooooooooooooooooooo excited!

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my birthday is in 6 days and so i have begun the personal gift-giving.

first on the hitlist are these two lovely watches that i bought from octopus.



less than 20 quid for both!


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new. nuevo. nouveau.

as i approach my 28th birthday [dec 22nd people; feel free to fed-ex me diamonds so i can pawn them and buy lots of chocolate] i am beginning to see a new horizon. i can look at events in my life and conclude that it makes sense that right now there is transition, but this feels trite. for when is there not transition in life? transition is the heartbeat of this earth. temporariness and change, movement and growth, progression and elevation. it demands our flexibility, and when we yield to this force we find ourselves discovering new horizons often. so is it really worth shouting about them? yes. say what you see. acknowledge what is there.

so here is my new-horizon-yell in my shoutiest voice: i see modelling work! i see singing! i see fiction writing! the pictures and sounds will arrive later, but my new blog, dedicated to my fiction work, will be launching in the next two weeks.

that's my horizon. feel free to shout about what you see on yours.

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i've been thinking:

my number one job right now is to be my most fabulous self.

that's your job too, btw.

no slacking!


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recently, i've been thinking about lines. lines and boundaries, territory and trespass.

at what point does it become necessary to not do what you would naturally do? if you are someone that likes to give gifts, do you give and give and give to people that never give to you? if you are a hard worker who responds well to a structured work environment, do you bust your balls all day long even though there is no reward? if you are a friend that remembers birthdays, do you make arrangements for your friends' birthdays even though they never remember yours?

at what point does being who you are begin to resemble being taken advantage of? when do you stop doing what is second-nature to you? should you? does stopping mean that you are giving people the power to change you? does expecting something in return make your initial demonstration hollow or selfish?

yes, i've been thinking about lines. maths was one of my favourite subjects at school, geometry and algebra being my two favourite topics. thinking about lines has brought me right back to geometry and thinking about the motivation behind being or not being who you are has brought me right back to algebra.

if giving + a lack of appreciation / x = the perfect balance, then: what the hell is x?








one.hundred.thirty


have you ever had someone hit on you with such deficient game that you didn't realise you were being hit on? or rather: you couldn't believe that was their attempt at hitting on you?

i was helping a customer pick out some jeans yesterday when he touched my elbow and said "what's your story?"

um.....


i was confused, but always one to give the benefit of the doubt i thought that he might be a writer. nope. he was a lawyer. cue more awkward customer service from me and off-putting, far-too-intense-considering-i-don't-know-you glances from him. then he asked me my name, and i told him. of course i wouldn't have if we were anywhere else, but you can't exactly withhold your name from a customer. so he asks me if i'm nigerian. nope. i tell him that, although my name is nigerian, my parents are from the caribbean. he then exclaims "see! you DO have a story!"


we didn't have the jeans he wanted in his size, so he told me [whilst giving me the eye-strangle] that he'd be back on wednesday or thursday. i suppose i was supposed to confirm that i'd be working those days. nope. i just said "ok." cue the most disturbing three-second linger from him, searching my eyes, looking for a sign that i too was feeling some kind of connection...

nope!

and if he walks into my store tomorrow i will play the most gangsta game of one-player hide and seek that you have ever seen in yo' life.

that's my story.

one.hundred.twenty.nine

sean connery is a woman-beater.



funny that his career hasn't been affected by this. and when i say 'funny', i mean 'not funny at all'.

one.hundred.twenty.eight

i'm too honest on this blog. i really am.

one.hundred.twenty.seven



after a year of being single, with no pressing desire to mingle, i am ready to date. for the first time in years, my singledom was not a result of having to get over my ex, that was tied up some time ago, this time it was just about looking after and enjoying me. but in the past week or so i have noticed that something has awoken in me, a flutter of desire, i'm ready for some male company.

i'm not looking for anything heavy. if marriage is a plate of steak with all the trimmings then i'm looking for a caesar salad. if marriage is a main course that comes with two sides then i'm looking for a starter, or maybe an aperitif. i think i'll leave the metaphors there, because i'm sure you get my drift. i want some fun and some kissy-kissy, but no bridey-bridey.

now, i'm not tooting my own horn, but i do get a decent amount of male attention on a daily basis. it could be because i'm attractive, or i could be a serial booger-smuggler with no awareness of the hefty stalactites on show to all others with two functioning eyes. my ego begs that i go with the former [and carry tissues with me at all times]. so: add to my ability to get some flirty attention to the fact that i a) work in an area with lots of foot traffic b) work in a store with lots of male customers [cute ones too] and c) have a social life back in full effect and on paper it looks like i should have no trouble finding a lovely man to share some time with. well, let's rip that paper up shall we? because there is a very real issue in the way of my date-dom that dawned on me in the late hours of last night...

i don't know how to do this!

i won't count the number of years, for even i may faint at the sight, but it has been a very long time since the internet has not played some kind of role in my dating life. how sad is that? [that's rhetorical!] whether i have met a man online or needed the internet to support a long-distance relationship, i am quite used to e-mails and instant messages being a major communicative tool in my love adventures. the disconnection i was beginning to feel in my friendships, and even within myself, contributed to my retreat from social networking sites [see below post]; but i never really considered how this would now alter the dynamics of my romantic relationships.

i'm not worried about the relationship itself, once it is in full swing then i'm fine. no help needed. it's the beginning that is a mystery to me. the first hello. the flirting [i'm a great flirt, but only when i don't like someone]. the exchange of phone numbers. the who calls who. the what to say. the first date. the first kiss.

hmm...that actually sounds like fun! if there is risk there is reward and i'm about to walk the high wire with no safety [inter]net. i honestly have no idea how i'm going to turn this flutter into a fella, but maybe, just maybe, i'll find my feet as quickly as i used to find the friend request button.