Seasonings!

I'm late but technically it's still Christmas...despite all the soca switching and so on.

So Merry christams to all my readers (I think it's 8 of you now...LOL) and take a Happy New Year one time...cause I doubt I'll be around before then!

Take care and be safe on the roads.

Afro Chic.

MUDTEES

Even though I don't post about family here, I had to dedicate a blog post to my adopted little bro who is officially launching his (well him and two others) T shirt line.

He's real hype about it and I'm kinda proud of him (don't tell him that though cause word on the street is that I don't. LOL.) cause he's doing what he enjoys and that's being creative.

So check it out...I'll be coasting some his tees all over. (I'm actually the 'model'...for want of a better word...on his myspace page right now.)

http://myspace.com/mudtees

P.S. He's not my adopted brother...we just tell him that.

We actually found him on the Beetham and he was cute then so we kept him. LOL.

Yuh know is Christmas when...

Yuh see sorrel selling on the highway...

Dey light up de Promenade...

It have people in tong like rain...

Dey block off Charlotte Street so yuh could shop...

Jimmy Aboud pack wid people buying up curtain...

Orchard Sorrel hit de shelves in de grocery...

De malls open on a Sunday...

I was in my first accident yesterday.

Three months and five days after I became a driver.

So yesterday (my last day of vacay) I'm at home minding my own business scratching my ass when I get a call from the Mother.She has to go meet the Father at work for them to go up to the airport to pick up her brother (the Uncle), but she took two tablets and was feeling drowsy and my Brother couldn't drop her, so could I please come and drop her to meet the Father.

Me: Sure. No scene.

*scrambles to put on clothes, jumps in a taxi to go down the hill, jumps in a taxi on the main road to go into town, reach in town, jumps in a taxi to reach by the Mother*

So driving around the Savannah around 3:00pm to go over the Lady Young, when I reach by the St. Ann's Roundabout.

*dramatic music*

I'm on the right side of the road and a white pick up truck on my left.

It have room for both of us to pass to go along the roundabout, but I still letting him go cause he was moving like he in a hurry.

Mummy: Watch this man here.

Me: *slows car to a crawl*

Mummy again: Watch this man here.

Me: *car almost at a stop*

Same time padnah eh slow he roll yet, I mash a brakes, and in slow motion (things like this always happend to me in slow motion...it was the same with Machel concert when the platform collapse)...in slow motion I see the man grind up on my left fender like he tiefing a wine and pull away the left side of my bumper.

And he eh stop.

At least not at first.

I blew the horn then and his vehicle came to a stop just before the Hilton walkway thereabouts.

At this point, the Mother vex cause de man eh stop...

We come out of the vehicle, survey the damage. The light was unbroken but the bumper was falling off.

Den Mother get vex cause de man smelling high of alco. I had tuh tell her tuh calm down cause she wasn't feeling well.

Long story short:

We get the man info: name, contact info, insurance company, policy number, DP number. And gave him ours in return.

During all of this while I taking the info, Mother and the other four or five fellas who was in the truck (it was a WASA truck) help us to remove the bumper cause it wasn't coming off fuh nuttin.

De bumper couldn't fit into the car, so de WASA fellas (who was REAL helpful) end up putting de bumper in the back of their truck and following us up to my home tuh drop it off.

Went up in the airport, pick up the Uncle (spent 1/2 hour, yes 1/2 hour! in the airport carpark waiting to leave!), went to the St. Clair police station who then directed us to the Belmont Station (after the Botanical Gardens yuh make yuh report in Belmont), gave a report.

The Officer who took my report was really nice (cute too). Office Seemungal.

Went home tired no ass.

And that's my story.

Did I mention I was driving the Father's car?He went to the Insurace Company this morning and everything was cool. Just that he might have to wait for the other party's insurance company to fix the car instead of his.

I'm safe and sound...and yes I drove after the accident, plus I drove again today.

Yuh know what they say about falling off yuh bicycle...

Has it really been that long...

Since last I blogged? Waayyysss...

Like I said before though.

I was busy...

I have writer's block...

I'm making beads!

I'm on vacation!

I went to Tobago!

So let's start with the first excuse: I was busy.

Well I was and I wasn't.

I do most of my blogging at the office (free DSL nah), and since I was preparing to go on vacay, I really didn't have the time between handing over and all that jazz.

Excuse #2: I have Writer's Block.

And it makes me itch. LOL.

I didn't have anything (not even random) to post.

I find it better to write/post (as I'm doing now) just randomly off the top of my head and see where it takes me.

Writing down topics to post on does not help.

I've been stuck for weeks now on a topic titled "That's So Gheddo"...but it's just NOT happening when I get to the pc.

One of these days though.

Excuse #3: I'm Making Beads!

Well not making beads, but making jewelry/jewellery (however yuh want tuh spell it).

And not even that busy making jewelry because we only got some of our stuff last week I think it was.

I did one of our new designs/products on Tuesday and it looks great! (of course it does, is me...LOL). I may post a sneak peek.

MAY...doh hold yuh breath.

Excuse #4 and #5: I'm on vacation! I went to Tobago!

Well I am. And I did.

I'm now on my 5th day, *YAYYY* with two more (working days) to go. *cry*

A short one, but very much welcomed with all that's going on at the office these days.

My plans to do Christmas cleaning have developed into nothing.

I have no idea what I'm waiting on, cause I hate last minute ting.

So what's next? What's up? What's happening?

I'll save that for a next post. LOL.

7 days since last I blogged...

Let's see...not much going on right now...but plenty going on too.

In 9 days I'm going on vacay (yes again, doh hate!) :D

Also, in 9 days I'll be heading to Tobago to celebrate my 8th year of marriage. *wine*

On the bead front, things not going too smoothly.

We not making any mid-November deadline for launch. So we now looking at a Carnival (I eh know how ah doing dat in between my partying but we'll see) and uniform launch (we getting new uniforms in April 2007).

Have to start some work on a project for Dre. Ah sticking bad.

In other news...I hate my hair colour. I think I'm going back to my red-sugary roots.

That's about it yes.

My creative juices just dried up right now...and this is not a good time fuh that seeing as it's Christmas and all and I have decorating to do and all that. *sigh*

Ah well Christmas around the corner, Carnival right after and then my birthday!

Bishop's Girls Don't Cry

Thanks to MT (a fellow Hilarian) for sending me this article!

BISHOP’S GIRLS DON’T CRY by Attillah Springer
At the end of a love affair, Attillah Springer wonders whether Bishop’s girls can really have tabanca. Blame it on her alma mater .

At the end of the love affair, I did what was expected of me. I made a misery playlist for my iPod, and ate appropriately obscene amounts of dark chocolate. I was, for about a day, having what seemed to me to be a tabanca.

Tabanca: that well known Trinbagonian lost-love syndrome that so often takes a fatal turn. The sickness has identifiable stages. Tabanca: the fresh hurt of lost love.

Tabanctruck: begging for a second chance and possible stalking.

Froufoulou: weight loss or gain, depending on your penchant for George X doubles. And then the final stage: counting lampposts, which speaks for itself, sadly.

But I realised one day, soon after I’d eaten the last of the chocolate, that I didn’t really have the heart to run the whole course of the illness. So I did what no other right-thinking woman should do: I blamed it on my alma mater.

I went to a high school in the middle of Port of Spain, hidden behind a moderately high grey wall similarly severe to the one that surrounds the Royal Gaol on Frederick Street nearby. Behind these walls there is some sort of education going on that surpasses the typical high school subjects. This education creates a peculiar and highly complex organism called the Bishop’s Girl.

Within the hierarchy of Trinidad’s church-run “prestige” schools, competition is a fierce and not-so-pleasant leave-over from colonial days. But this school, from its founding by an Anglican Bishop called Anstey, was really for the growing number of black middle-class Protestant girls who did not necessarily find a best-fit in the nun-run convent schools.

By the time I entered those hallowed halls, I wanted to follow the trail blazed by those outsiders who had gone on to own the world. In the chapel there was a dashiki-wearing mosaic Jesus with an afro, and a priest with a funky beard who gave the kinds of sermons that even the anti-church feminist girls wanted to hear.

But no Bishop’s Girl can tell the moment or the class or the day on which she first learned the lesson that Bishop’s Girls were really put on earth to rule the world. Upon release, the Bishop’s Girl mutates into several other species, including but not limited to: the Bishop’s mafia; the CEO; and the angry black woman who is not just satisfied with complaining loudly. She is also prone to decisive action.

No Bishop’s Girl can really recall the moment when she realised he really was better than everyone else.

But in the pursuit of this sisterhood of success, nobody warned us that men and other less enlightened women might have a problem with that.

“You think you own yourselves,” says my classic Caribbean man friend, giving his analysis of The Problem With Bishop’s Girls. A heated argument ensues, and I am inclined to agree with him that we think we own ourselves, which to us is not a problem. But given the fragile nature of sexual politics in the Caribbean, it’s the kind of situation a lot of men find rather disconcerting.

Of course, it’s not just Caribbean men who don’t quite get it. I find myself wondering if perhaps I should have explained to the mild-mannered European ex-BF who had no clue about the Bishop’s Girl phenomenon that it really wasn’t my fault I was haughty, dismissive, and wholly unmanageable. Which is not to say that I didn’t love him, in a Bishop’s Girl kind of way; that is, on my terms, which I have a right to change as it suits me.

And if the Bishop’s Girl in me dictated how I am in a relationship, it certainly has an influence on how I deal with its demise. Do we get sad or do we get even? Do we use that biting wit to make big men who might have been convinced by the Convent girls that they’re the cat’s pyjamas understand that, really, they’re not.

I mean, is it appropriate behaviour for me to be trying to figure out what I did wrong when clearly the man is the one with the flaws?

But another Bishop’s Girl explained that, in truth, Bishop’s Girls do get tabancas, because we have to settle for, as described by a past principal, two-by-four men. And it is because we know they are unworthy of us that we are prone to hurt.

So until such time as the advent of a Bishop’s Boy who understands high standards and the inherent need to be haughty, Bishop’s Girls are doomed to lives of settling for less-than-perfect men, and the disappointments that come with knowing that no one is really worthy.

Maybe I should just buy myself a lifetime supply of dark chocolate.

http://www.meppublishers.com/online/caribbean-beat/current_issue/index.php?id=cb82-2-96

Volunteer

For those of you who’ve been living under a rock and or couldn’t be bothered, the Cricket World Cup 2007 is being hosted in the Caribbean.YES! Right here!!

I won’t get into the whole-package-bidding-sunset-application and the related drama though. Suffice to say dat nuttin cyar happen here without a lil bachannal.

But on with the story…

So one day in a taxi on meh way to St. James, ah hear Paul Keens Douglas on de radio talking bout volunteering duh de Cricket World Cup. Ah say eh heh?
Next day (or it may have actually been a few weeks later) yuh girl log on to http://www.cricketworldcup.com/ and enter up she info and ting, hit submit and get back her confirmation email. Niceness.

Couple days after dat (might have been a week), I got a call that I had an interview on Saturday 28th October at 2:15pm, WICB box. Niceness self!

So...on Saturday evening ah reach down (or rather up) in de people dem place, filled out a form (yuh name, yuh address. areas yuh interested in, uniform size,e which games yuh want tuh work etc.) and sat down to wait for my interview.

Met with Ms. Sybil Jack-Valentine (nice lady) and got the usual tell me about yourself (I does never know how tuh answer dat question), ask me what I knew about cricket, if I understood you wouldn’t get paid (apparently some people had asked how much you would be paid as a volunteer) blah blah, that kinda thing.

I left the interview feeling pretty okay. They’re supposed to contact the successful applicants during the next two weeks.

So I’m keeping my fingers crossed...wish me luck! *crosses fingers*

Before and After...

Yes I erased my face.

Yuh know how I feel about this whole internet thing. LOL.

Even though I guess anyone who knows me would recognise me. *sigh*

It's a no win situation.

The real big floppy afro hair pics still waiting to be uploaded though.

Synergy Supermodel

Yes it’s over, but for a while I was one of those people who would tune in every Wednesday (or whenever the re-runs were shown) to see our version of “America’s Next Top Model”.
A better name for the show actually, might have been “Trinidad’s Next Top Model” rather than Synergy Supermodel, as by definition, a supermodel is :

a highly-paid top fashion model who is known world-wide for consistent and
concurrent modeling work in haute couture and commercial modeling, usually for
top fashion designers and labels, such as Chanel, Prada, and Gucci. The term is
customarily applied to female models by the media, but in the 1990s the term
began to be applied to some male models. Supermodels may be referred to as sex
symbols and are able to parlay their celebrity into product endorsement deals
and acting careers at times.

From the preliminary selection (where clearly they told the potential model to wear white and some just choose to ignore that. I woulda penalize them on dat alone…”can’t follow simple instructions – NEXT!”…But anyhoo, I digress.) to the picking of the first batch, to the voting off of those eh couldn’t cut it to the final show at Zen (no I didn’t go the actual show at Zen) and everything in between…I watched it all. (well most anyways).

It was amusing to see us try and copy the ‘drama’ and umm…‘excitement’?...of those foreign reality tv shows. I think a real Trini show could have enough drama without trying to copy what’s out there already…But that’s another post entirely.

After following the show and the models from Tobago to…well Tobago, I kinda became attached/accustomed to some of the guys and the ladies and my favorites were:
Russel (I liked his smile and his sense of humour) and (oh my god I can’t believe I don’t remember her name…wait…) Danielle. While I had a little problem with Danielle’s makeup at first, I totally dug the fro. (yes yesI’m biased I know, but Sassy had a fro and I wasn't feeling her.)

And yes Kai was a tall glass of mauby on a hot day, but he was just a little too cock sure for me, similarly to the dude with the ras, Samuel I think it is.
And the girl who won (whose name I really don’t remember and couldn’t really be bothered to find out) is just, to me, another pretty face in Trinidad. Nothing special or outstanding about her and her voice is like chalk on a blackboard.

I'll upload the pics of my two favorites (and some random others) later. Cause right now blogger giving trouble.

I Don’t See With My Left Eye...

When I tell people this they often watch me in a combination of disbelief and amazement.
Cause the people who know me, know that I can spot the smallest thing for far away (I prefer no to say maco) and my eye for detail is so keen it upsets even me.

But I guess that’s not completely true… I can see colour and shadows with my left eye.
But I can’t see it if I look straight ahead. When I close my right eye and ‘use’ the left I have to turn my head slightly to the left for me to see anything directly in front of me/the eye.

The earliest I can remember not seeing ‘normally’ is when I was about 6 (not too sure about that) and I remember asking mummy and daddy why did they make binoculars with two sides if you only use one. That kinda opened the flood gate and opened their eyes (haha!) to the fact that maybe their cute little baby girl (what?! I was!!) may have had a problem.

At the age of about 8 I think it was, I was diagnosed with optic atrophy:

Optic atrophy is the loss of some or most of the fibers of the optic
nerve [1].
In medicine, "atrophy" usually means "shrunken but capable of regrowth", so some
argue that "optic atrophy" as a pathological term is somewhat misleading and use
"optic neuropathy" instead. The optic nerve is part of the brain and has no capability for
regeneration. Hence, there can be no recovery from optic atrophy and the term
may refer to serious or mild, but always irreversible visual loss due to damage
to the optic nerve. www.wikipedia.com

Test after test later, from blood test (dat big eye nurse in POSGH dred!) to this test where they put my head in a chamber thingy with flashing lights to test your range of vision (it was later determined that the right eye has NO blind spot) to everything in between. I did it all.

Surgery could be done (we were told this a little later when I was in Secondary School and becoming increasingly self-conscious) but it would just be cosmetic.
i.e. they could realign/straighten the eye, but I still would not have vision in the eye and the surgery was 50/50. It may or may not stay straight.
OH! And because it's considered cosmetic surgery it couldn't be claimed on any medical plan.


SO…20 or so odd years later, I am thinking (seriously this time) of getting some advice and get the surgery done…possibly abroad (by Uncle Fidel or Uncle Hugo...I hear they're good and affordable).
I would like to get the laser eye surgery to fix the can’t-remember-which-sightedness in my right eye, as well as looking into fixing the atrophy and/or straightening the eye for ‘cosmetic’ purposes.

And yes…I am still extremely self conscious about it.
And yes...it still bothers me 20 years later.

Stuff That Amuses, Irritates or Otherwise Irks Me

People who buy stuff at Jebelle and other ‘high end’ (or rather high priced) stores at the Faulls (and other such establishments) and keep the bag they got their stuff in until the bag looks as tired as the item they purchased probably does.
Throw away the bag already! We get it…you shop at Jebelle.
But yuh know what? Nobody gives a shit.

People who play Carnival. You don’t play Carnival idiot…you play mas.

This damn Chinese food that apparently they lace with cocaine/heroin/marijuana/ecstacy/whatever to get you addicted because since I discovered them about two months ago, I have to have it at least once a week.
Does Chinese food make you fat? Yuh doh really see much fat Chinese people yuh know...

B-mobile blocking my Digicel calls.
Don't deny it you damn PR Coverup people...you know it's true!

Falling asleep on a Law & Order/CSI/Any Show That I'm Watching episode just before they come to the good part. Damn you sleepiness! Damn you to heck!

That's it for now...I think...

The Big Chop 2006

Well I finally did it.
Last Thursday I went and just got it over with.

I cut my hair.
Not trimmed. Not snip. Not even cut so much…I just chopped it all off.

After I left my hair my hair was off I felt so free, no more hair to comb out every morning, no more headaches, no more hair! YAYY!

Then later on in the night as I watched my now itsy bitsy teeny weeny fro, I started missing my hugerific afro and all the fabulous way we used to look together. *sniff*

I missed the mess that was my weekend hair.
I missed the all fro’ed out afro just flopping all over.
I missed pushing my hair back with a band and patting it down to go to work in the morning.
I miss putting it in one.
I even missed the turned heads and the stupid stares!
We never even got to do the Mohawk hairstyle, never got to do the funky side canerow and now it’s all gone and I’m starting over from scratch.
*sigh*

Needless to say though, my short hair looks FAB! But that’s understood. LOL.
It takes me less time to get ready on a morning…to get ready period.
I don’t even have to comb it if I don’t want to. (Haven’t combed it since I cut it last Thursday).

And of course, as expected, everyone has a view on my new hair.
So far everyone wants to know why I cut it and it was growing so full and nice.
They love the new do, but miss the old…as do I.
Even my baby nephew looks at me perplexed because he loved to play in the wooliness of my hair.

No worries though, I know by the end of the year I’ll have graduated from itsby bitsy teeny weeny fro to teeny weeny fro. :D

And for those who keep asking me what next? Your guess is a good as mine.

My hair in the spotlight

1. Where are you from and how is the natural scene there?
The beautiful twin island Republic of Trinidad and Tobago.
Hmm…the natural ‘scene’ hair (ha!) is made up mainly of women who wear their hair in locks I guess. The fro wearers are few. Many women will rock canerow and braids along with their natural hair.

2. How long did you transition and how long have you been natural?
I transitioned for about (reaches into the vault that is my bad memory) four months.
Made the big chop in 2003. I’ve chopped once since then in late 2003.
And getting ready to chop again.

3. When did you decide to go natural and why?
I decided to go natural sometime late 2002 because I actually wanted to put in the Afro Kinky braid and my relaxed hair was too long for that style. LOL. My hairdresser had in the braid at the time and it looked FAB!
So I decided to grow out my hair, cut it off so I could put in the braid. (Crazy I know).
Oh yeah, my relaxed hair had been breaking up really badly for a while and my hairline was getting invisible and my hair was coming out in graps.

4. How was your transition?
On a scale of 1 to 10, (1 being absolutely horrible and 10 being fantastic!) it was about 4.5.
Trying to maintain the relaxed hair and new growth sucked monkey balls. And because of where I work, it made it harder, because it kinda demands neatness. I did it with no wigs, no braids, just new growth and relaxed ends.

5. How much support did you receive when you decided to go natural?
Support? What’s that? LOL.
Umm…I got support from my mom I guess because she had gone natural about 6 months before me. And there are probably other people too that I can't remember now.

6. How did you feel about your natural hair in the beginning?
I loved my natural hair! It was low, easy to maintain and had a FAB colour.
I didn’t like people’s reactions and comments on my hair though and it gave rise to mixed feelings on my part.
Then I basically said, “Fuck it, it’s my hair, not yours.” (well not to their face, but that was my general attitude).

7. Has there been any difference in your life from going natural?
It’s even easier to get ready in the mornings than it was before. LOL.
People watch, no...correction, they STARE you down when your hair is natural. Especially when it’s as long as mine is and combed out in all its glory.

8. What has been the best thing about being natural?
No more chemicals and making appointments to go to the hairdresser and spending all day there.


9. What is your favorite hairstyle and why?
My fave hairstyle is what I call my weekend hair.
Because I often have to be a bit more conservative during the week at work and keep my hair in a neat fro, from Friday to Sunday evening, my hair is just left to be itself. I wet it during my shower, put in some hair grease and hair polisher nad let it fall where it may.

10. How do you take care of and maintain your hair?
Daily: I wet it every morning (that’s the only way for me to comb it without getting a headache, and even then), use a detangler by Vidal Sassoon, apply Eternal hair conditioner throughout.
If I’m leaving it open I’ll use Twisted Sista Curl Activator and I always finish up with Eternal Hair Polisher.
Weekly: I wash it once a week with Pantene ProV shampoo and conditioner.
Other: I colour it every 4 – 6 weeks or so using Clairol Textures and Tones Flaming Desire and Cherrywood.

11. If you were stranded on a deserted island and had to choose 3 things for your hair, what are three things you would have to have for your hair?
Eternal hair conditioner
Eternal hair polisher
Twisted Sista Curl Activator Spray

12. What advice would you give someone who was thinking of going natural?
Just do it. And once you’re there, don’t study what other people are saying.

13. Any final thoughts?
Go fro!

Questions courtesy www.motowngirl.com

To cut or not to cut…THAT is the question.

For those of you who followed the storiesabout my hair (all 6 of you): hair’s a little update.

I’ve been thinking about cutting off my hair again.
Yes I know...WHY?
Cause it’s reached another point of frustration das why!

Right now my hair is long enough that it can go into a ponytail during the week and be left out in it’s usual mad weekend state. If I pull my hair onto my face it touches the tip of my nose.

But what I can’t take right now is de combing of the hair.
I am only able to comb my hair when it’s wet (as in totally saturated) and after it’s been sprayed with detangler…and it still hurts like heck even after all dat.

This morning I gave myself a headache combing out my hair. (And if yuh know my head size…das a big ass headache).

So I’m thinking of going low like how it was when I first cut it. I used to love the feel of water running through my scalp on a morning.

So that’s where I am with my hair right now.

To cut or not to cut…

The Job Hunt

Sometime late last year I decided that it was time for me to change my job. So I made a broad statement to the world (and the people in the office)...something to the effect of, “By end of first quarter 2006, I will not be working here anymore!!! FIRE BUN!!!"

Unfortunately, I just said that off the top of my head thinking that I was so fantastic that I wouldn't need to do anything much except say that I was leaving my job for it to happen. Well real life doesn't work quite like that in real life.

So January came and I found myself having to do my first real interview in close to 10 years. This was as a direct result of some mass mailing I did to ad agencies in and around POS (as most of them are). Had a hit and miss with one (they hit, I missed out), had a response from only one other.

The interview was at an ad agency (totally different to what I do now mind you) and I was extremely nervous. Took a day off and all! Take meh time to dress and ting buy a borse navy suit with a borse-er orange shirt. I eh go lie...ah look real good...but ah was nervous.

Went to the interview…got through the interview…felt pretty good after the interview and then nothing.
No phone call saying “well dog cyat horse yuh eh get de job thanks for applying but we really wasn’t feeling yuh anyways.”
Needless to say I felt shitty for not getting the job and then angry at the fact that they couldn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that I dollsed up for them and came in for an interview. STEUPS.

Well after that first interview I was Queen Interviewee eh.

I coulda answer anything yuh throw at meh.

Interviews after that were with:
a recruiting agency (the guy was cute. Young, but cute)

Movietowne (Never called me back but I woulda real like mehself in dat one)

a communication firm (through the recruitment agency, but this interview was cancelled at the last minute)

interview with the parent company of my present company (they had me waiting too long to do the interview and pus I wasn’t getting a good vibe from de place, so I told them I couldn’t stay and I left)

another communications firm (they were nice enough to call me and tell me I was over qualified, which is just a way of them telling you that they can’t afford to pay you)

and most recently with Ferreira Optical (this was through the recruitment agency and I made it as far as the second interview and got a secondary job offer during the interview in case I didn’t get through with the job I was interviewing for).

Strange enough though I’ve applied for 9 jobs since June of this year, and of the interviews I’ve been on only 2 of those were through the jobs that I actually applied for.
And of those 9 applications, only 3 acknowledge the fact that I even exisited.

So I’m still here working hardly. *sigh*

But I have a plan now that I’m slowly but surely executing.

Two driving test and two failures later…

It’s Official! I’m a driver!

So on August 14th I passed my regulation test for the second time and got a date for my exam…August 28th.

But before I go on here’s a little bit of my driving history…

I first went for my regulations sometime on 2000 (yes, 6 years ago!)…signed up with Chris to do manual (bleh) and subsequently failed because the Licensing Officer said/wrote he had to apply brakes too much and my judgement was poor (steups). Signed up to do it over but never did until eventually my Learner’s Permit expired. But I used to drive with the hubby in the car on a regular basis until I eventually just stopped.

Fast forward to July 2006 and I decide to take the plunge and go do the damn thing again ‘cause it’s just too much stress having to wait/depend on undependable people. So like I said…I passed the regs and was getting ready for my exam. (Keep in mind that while waiting to do the regs I didn’t have a driving instructor eh).

After my first attempt at getting an instructor bust (de man came late with no real apology and had no respect for my time)…got a number from a coworker for Martin’s Driving School (736-5843…tell him I send yuh) and started lessons with only 9 days to go before my exam.

I wasn’t worried though because like I said before, I could drive. What I needed to practice was the stuff you do in the yard (L turn and 3 point turn). And that would be more of a practice to reacquaint myself.

Fasty forward again to Monday 28th August. (Yuh girl done apply fuh she day off, ‘cause yuh know Licensing Office is a whole day ting. Is only after ah apply fuh de day Martin tell meh come fuh 1:00 even doh de paper dey give meh say 8:30 cause apparently it does go faster in de evening).

Moving right along…ah reach de place, (had a lesson just about an hour before and real mash up wid meh yard work – L turn and what not) eh feeling nervous…not even a little bit ‘cause…I could drive. I know dat.

Eh heh?

Jump een de people dem car to do my L turn…do meh L turn and getting into the 3 point when ah hear de ossifah say “Ahm…ma’am (or miss...I doh remember now)…please switch off your engine.”
Me: *switches off engine*

Ossifah: You touched the line.

Me: *opens the door and looks at the damn tire mashing the stupid line*
Wow. Ok. *comes out of the car*

Ossifah: *scribbles on his pad (I assume) ‘de woman mash de line during she L turn’*
No hard feelings eh darling.

Me: Nah man. *shrugs and wonders wtf happenend*

Martin: What happen dey…yuh was nervous or what? De eye boddering yuh?

Me: Nope. I eh know what happen nah…Ah do shit.

Martin: Well go and give de paper *give me instructions on how to go about getting a new date to do it over*

When ah pay and do all de running up and dong Licensing compound, tell Martin my new date (September 11th). He say he find dat too far and ask meh when ah want tuh do it over…I tell him this Friday. He tell meh tuh leave de paper with him and he go arrange dat.

So yuh girl done text people tuh tell dem she fail…hubby think I joking and asking meh tuh see de license when he pick meh up. Dong tuh meh oldest and all tell meh “Mummy you joking right?”

Went back the Friday in de evening again…feeling nervous as hell this time and pass meh exam.
De yard test was actually longer than the road test...(which was basically me driving in Licensing compound are two three cars cause de ossifah was hungry and tired and just wanted to go home....at least so he tell meh).

Didn’t get de actual license until Monday though cause de cashier was closed and after all…is Licensing Office.

Thus ends my journey.

Getting the picture take was another story though. Later fuh dat!

You may celebrate now...

Cause I'm back.

*applause*

Not so much by popular demand, but more because of circumstance(s?).

So I stopped posting here and was posting on TS ...but then TS crashed...and I lost my blog *sniff*
Damn you guru!! *shakes angry fist at guru* ...
Then Guru promised to get back my blog entries *YAYY!!*...
But I'm still waiting on him to sort that out... *angry face*
And in the meantime I had nowhere to vent/type/post/blab/blog...
So something about necessity being somebody's mother of invention or something like that I came back to blogger.com. *YAYY!!*

(cleaned it up a bit before I did though...there were some really pathetic posts in here...I have no idea who hacked into my blog) *makes note to send blogger.com people an angry email*

So I'm here and I'll try to continue posting stuff about my hair (cause, in case you missed it, that was what my old blog was about), and any other random stupid meaningful shit like my recent job hunt.

postsecret.blogspot

I check this blog on my weekly rounds of blog reading. (Not that I have secrets...well I do...but not to share...even if it's anonymously.)

Smiled when I saw this one.

So the question is: Does having an afro make you hip?

My Birthday Week

Most people take a day off for their birthday, but I was on a week vacation for mine.
It was supposed to be a week of relaxation and it kinda more or less was.

Monday: Cinema by to see some crap movie "Hills have Eyes"

Tuesday: Had a paraffin pedicure at Institute de Beaute and did my nails. (First time for me and the paraffin wax).

Wednesday (My budup day): Went in town with my baby niece Zaria and her mom, then did my first ever bikini wax at...you guessed it...Institute de Beaute. Wednesday evening...some much needed sleep...I was dog tired.

Thursday (Holiday): Slept until about 9am. Read the end of my Patterson "Honeymoon"...started my Dickey (can't remember the name now)...slept...woke up...read...went to my birthday dinner...came home...finished my Dickey and then...yep...slept.

Friday (today): Went in town and limed with my foamie, went to "The Faulls"...came home.

It was a blessed birthday week indeed.

I gone.

Another First For Me

So yesterday I went for my first ever massage.

I received a voucher from Calley from Institute de Beaute (since Christmas, but then it expired, then I had to get it extended, then I couldn't go becauseI had sunburn, then the next week I forgot the voucher home, then last week they didn't have my appontment), I finally made it yesterday.

Gone into the lil changing area. Took off my clothes and wrapped a towel around my body and one around my head. Lay down on my tummy and waiting for the body scrub in this semi-darkish room wid some real ahm...kinda massage type music playing.

So the girl puts the first set of whatever it is on my leg (warmish) and starts to srcub.

WOW.

The body scrub feels like they use the coarsest most granular apricot scrub...like industrial strength or something. And she rubs my skin using loofah-type gloves...Well yes.
Now while at first it felt like the woman was trying to srcub away my first 5 or so layers of epidermis, but after a while you get accustomed to the feel of being tortured by those little granules.

After the scrub, I had to go into the sauna for 10 minutes. Another first. It was cool (well hot) for the most part...I had to keep my face in the towel cause I didn't like the feel of the heat on my face.

Next came the best part...my aromatherapy massage.

*sigh*

That was fantastic. Same postion...face down...enjoying the music, the smells and then...the woman starts to slap me!! Dred...My legs were assaulted. But then she went back into the massage and pulled all my fingers, toes, massaged my back. I actually felt stress leaving my fingertips.

It was wonderful. I probably won't do the body scrub again...but I could definitely see the Aromatherapy Massage getting regular play by me.

I gone.

Poetry Recital

So someday last week we were driving by the National Museum and out of the corner of my eye (not the good one, the other one) I saw the name 'Maximus Dan'. *excited* Asked Calley to turn around to check out what the banner said.
March 21st.
International Poetry Day.
Poetry Recital.
National Museum.
7pm.
Max is a Mus Dan will be there. *more excitement*

So we bookmark the date and make plans.
I was keeping my exppectations low. Like real low.

So last night we reach in and sit down. (With our copy of Love Generation - Maximus' CD for 2K6 FYI.)
After all the relevant protocol of opening the function began.

Hear nah! First performer...Delana...Performed a piece with her daughter on her hip with one smooth voice. And from there it just got better.
Chike Pilgrim with Hell Phone. Kile Seijas, Ivory...talk bout mash up! Shakella...another smooth voice.

And after dat was Maximus.

Well once Maximus reach on stage I got up and went tuh de side one time. He opened with (good grief I can't even remember what now *shame*) and then went into my absolutely favorite song right now, Love Generation. HEAR NAH! Tears come to my eyes oui. I eh go lie. Dat song does just...*sigh* Ah does feel it all in meh toe.

After Maximus was intermission. (He signed my CD and I got a picture with him...ah looking real dotish and starstruck in de pic doh.)

Second half opend with Malice, then there was Collis Duranty, Kepha Yaseph, meh boy Ozy Majic (suck a doux doux mango...lol.), Abinta Clark and they closed with I-Sasha.

Well needless to say Calley and I had to stand up and groove tuh dat one..it special fuh us. (Got a pic with I-Sacha too and told him why I like his song so much.)

But all in all...it was a GREAT night spent. There's supposed to be another one in October or thereabouts...Thing is it was free entry and free refreshments eh...I find dey could charge a small change buh... *shrug*

I definitely heading there again. Everytime I think about it...meh pores does raise.

"So give some love to yuh enemy, show dem you got de remedy"

I gone.