Thoughts running through my mind while I was running through the park

Hey readers lovers,

I’m typing this post from the kitchen that I share with eight other flatmates, as I watch my drumsticks and white rice boil to edibility. Eight other people? It is very possible because not everyone cooks and the kitchen is actually big. We have sufficient utensils and cooking equipment for days. London is very sunny today; it reminds me of my 2010 spring break in Los Angeles.

In January, I went through a phase of drinking lots of SmirnOff Ice. Then, I stopped but I kept the evidence of my abstinence.

I'm addicted to fruits. I love the 1-pound fruit bowls in Whitechapel Road market kiosks.

The books that I planned to study during my semester abroad. I'm yet to turn a page of any :(
French dictionary. Random book by Daniel Schacter. Complimentary Cosmo Sex Guide (I didn't buy it, it came with the mag), GRE workbooks.

While I was running through Mile End Park earlier, I noticed many people jogging or riding their bicycles with dogs. Like the typical Nigeria-bred person that I am, dogs scare me. No joke! Even puppies can make shivers run down my spine. My mum is scared of dogs too. I guess that is whom I learned my fear from. I remember when I visited a friend in Paris for five days. When I got there, I met a dog and cat unexpectedly. I considered taking a flight back home immediately or checking into a hotel. But I didn’t. You don’t want to know how I survived in a two-bedroom apartment with those pets bullies. It was a struggle. In the park, there was a man playing with his dogs. He would throw a golf ball into the canal and the dog had to go get it. For some reason, I never knew that dogs could swim, until this afternoon. It was very interesting to see this particular dog swim gracefully.

While I was running earlier, I didn’t want my 34 GGs flying from Mexico to Kazakhstan. (ps: Bravissimo claims my babies are 34GGs. Before this year, I thought I was a 36DDD. So much for measuring boobs mehn). Back to my story, I was jogging slowly. I’m way too conscious of my boobs flying up and down, so I don’t go on the treadmill in the gym. But I got this really firm sports bra from Bravissimo (A British lingerie store for plus size). So, everything is in place, when need be.

While I was running earlier, I decided that I don’t want to be a UK size 10 or US size 6. I just want to be fit and toned. I have never been obsessively conscious of my physique but I get the satisfaction from seeing the reflection of a banging bod, when I stand in front of the mirror. Jennifer Hudson recently dropped a lot of weight, I don’t want that. I’m content with being as thick as I am, not thicker though. All I desire is more contouring, toned gams, abs and guns.

*insert imaginary awkward ending to the post here*

New fave song of the week: I'm a star by Chrisette Michele. I love this song. It's on the borderline of slow and fast RnB songs.

Linguistic discovery of the week: Most America-bred folks don't know what a 'lorry' is.

Je t'embrasse

PS: My debit card finally came in the mail. It took two weeks longer than expected because they initially posted it to my US address. I'm fine though :)
PPS: I'm embarking on a multi-city euro trip, for the first half of April. Sh*t is about to go crazy. Watch this space for the report.
PPPS: I'm putting the main body of this post from my drafts. It was written a week ago.