Cannot wear my glasses anymore, without thinking of pee.

Monday morning 23/04/11

A call interrupted my slumber at 10:30am. I was pissed but grateful when I saw the time on my phone because I had to leave my room at 11:30am.

I hurried through the unnecessary phone conversation and propped against the wall beside my twin-sized bed. I could still lick the aftertaste of the Ping Pong dim sum all-you-can-eat dinner from the previous night. Boy! The dinner was so bomb and it was free. I'm sure I ate more than 30 pounds worth of food. Thanks to their lazy sumday promotion, where you wear your PJs to Pingpon on sunday and eat for free. Londoners, check it out next sunday. The ridiculous things that I do in London because I know nobody here.

Back to my original story - licking some imaginary dim sum off my lips and mentally planning my day's itinerary of errands; I was already occupied with thoughts. I pulled my comforter away from my body and exposed my knickers for that rush of the morning fresh air. I wear only knickers to bed when I have no company. I love that feeling of my skin against the sheets. Bliss.

I strode to my bathroom and checked out my morning look in the vanity mirror. I looked like a normal person, besides the tear mark by my left eye. I yanked my hair wrap away and suddenly felt like I had to pee. I don't know why the view of my toilet seat induces such urge.

I sat on the toilet bowl and continued planning my itinerary: computer repair centre for my Mac's hardware, hair store to make my hair installation appointment, Westfield's TM Lewin store to pick up my online order, Harvey Nichols in KnightsBridge to pick up my Brazilian hair extensions *cough* and other randoms. It's quite amazing that my best flash ideas light up when I'm doing my thing on the toilet seat.

The last trickle of my liquid waste dropped into the bowl and I stood up to look at my pee, before flushing it down. I always observe my body waste before disposal. The pee seemed unusually very yellow, almost lemon green. I don't know how this happened but the cosmetic kit seemed unsteady on the shelf above my toilet seat. I tried to re-position it correctly but my eye glasses on the kit's lid fell INTO THE TOILET BOWL with my pee unflushed.

It took less than a second for my only pair of eye glasses to sink to the bottom of my pee-logged toilet bowl. Yuck! For a second, I was too disgusted to pull it out. Then, I remembered my unfortunate uber-myopic sight and the fact that that was my only pair. The earliest that I would have a replacement will be a month from now. I can't be blind for that long, when I take my contacts off at night.

So, I closed my eyes, pulled the glasses out of the toilet bowl, flushed my pee down to avoid another accident, rinsed my glasses under a running tap and wondered why my day had to begin this way.

Le sigh,
Yinkuslolo
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I'm on train to Oxford, one of my attempts to leave the London bubble and appreciate other parts of this British awesomeness.

Update: Oxford was beautiful. It looked like Windsor to me with the Harry Potter feel. 

Amsterdam - The city of free (Pictures)

Typical street divider in Amsterdam. Canals everywhere. Loves it

Everyone and their aunt's cats ride a bicycle in Amsterdam no joke. There are more bicycles than there are cars.

I loved and will forever love Amsterdam. That was the first city that I visited on my mini eurotrip, in April. It was epic, to underestimate my satisfaction derived from the trip. 

Before going, I had looked up myths, stories and guides to exploring Amsterdam in 2 days. Many people go there to smoke the legendary weed or visit the Red Light District, where prostitution is legalized and done in broad daylight. What I didn't know was that Amsterdam is an 'archipelago' of canals, bicycles, and free thinkers. Dutch is the native language but almost everyone in Amsterdam speaks English too, because it's a tourist destination.

I went to Amsterdam with a fellow London study-abroader and her friend that flew in from Madrid. It was nice trio of young black girls set to live the Amstel way. 

Most streets in Amsterdam are divided by canals, not roads. Bliss. Imagine this view, every morning

When I got there, I flew into Eindhoven airport, two hours away from Amsterdam because it was cheaper than flying into Schipol, Amsterdam airport. I actually liked my two-hour train ride through the Hague and Eindhoven. By the way, Amsterdam is in Holland, which is also referred to as the Netherlands. Two names for the same country. o_O

On the way to Anne Frank Haus (Haus = House in German)

Of course, my ignorant self knew nothing about Anne Frank, until my buddies mentioned her house in Amsterdam. From the knowledge that I gathered, Anne Frank was a daughter of a German family that sought refuge in Amsterdam during the German war or something like Hitler or Nazi regime. My bad, I suck at history and knowing these things. I should though. She kept a diary of her life, hiding away in the Anne Frank haus (named after her), until they were found in the 1940s or 50s. Her diary has been turned into a popular book in different langauges. Please google her story.

queue to get into Anne Frank Haus

Anne Frank Haus guide booklet

There are kiosks everywhere that sell fries in these cone-like wraps. 

If you ever go to amsterdam, you have to try these fries. They are everywhere and they have also sorts of sauces available, from ketchup to masala.

Boat cruise along the Amstel

My girls and I decided to take a personal cruise, across the river Amstel. I guess this is where the famous Amstel Malta drink is named after. 

These are boat-houses, floating on water. They look like houses built on water but they have boat foundations. I saw many houses like these. 

Children left by themselves in a boat

Famous Skinny Bridge

Amsterdam is small city. We literally walked across the city, three times during our 2-day stay. You can use a bicycle to get from end to end in 25 mins. On a lower note, it is expensive though. More expensive than Paris but not as much as expensive as London, from my experience.

Club sign in the Red Light District. Prostitutes everywhere

Of course, we visited the Red Light District. It was a nothing short of a wowzer. A future post will be dedicated to that. Teaser: One of the female prostitutes winked at me. #shocks I find it funny that a majority of the patronisers are English men. C'mon, coming all the way from the UK to bang a prostitute in Amsterdam, that's serious.

Drinks made from weed. Cannabis merchandise in coffee shop window

Just to clarify a common misconception, weed is actually illegal in Amsterdam but it's tolerated, as long as it is not commercialized openly. That means you cannot explicitly have 'Weed for sale' on your shop sign. Weed shops are referred to as coffeeshops. My advice to you is that you should not joke with Amsterdam weed. Their stuff is hella potent. One joint is enough to take you there. A weed novice should only attempt a few puffs. Don't harm yourself!

Weed lolli-pops

I didn't try the weed derivatives because the weed content was ambiguous. We heard stories of tourists who went nuts from trying weed cakes, weed cans and stuff because they underestimated the weed content. I had to caution myself. Imagine passing out in the first city of my eurotrip. No bueno.

Main structure for Amsterdam's chinatow

Wooden Tulips at Flea Market

Human-size Chess board.

I saw this chess game and was amazed. I don't know jack about Chess. Sadly, whenever it comes up in general trivia questions, I feel like a dummy. I presume Chess is assumed to be of universal knowledge now.

Sign, in front of Van Gogh museum

It is was a nice trip. These pictures do the experience no justice. I did a couple of activities not in the photos like going to a club, to the dock, the brewery and many other stuff. I will do similar posts for the other cities visited. Amsterdam is now my second favorite city in the world, after Paris. She took the position away from London LOL.

On another note, why is there so much ruckus about a calculated end-of-the-world date on May 21st. I don't care what's happening then, all is know is that I'll be eating some crêpes and sipping orangina in Paris, this weekend. Yes, I'm going again. Can't get enough of that city.

I really should have not changed my mind from Paris to London, for studying abroad. Nonetheless, my London experience has been amazing non-stop. I just cannot have it all, can I? I have finished my exams. So, I have about three weeks left in London for chilling/travelling/being a fool and making love to Londontown. Suggestions of non-touristy London spots are very welcome. I need to see it all, before I leave.

Till next time,
Yinkuslolo.

PS: My two-year blogaversary is coming up in June. For the two-year hall mark, I will accept 20 questions. So feel free to leave the question in the comment box or email me at yinkuslolo@gmail.com

On Pole Dancing

I've watched this video more than five times, since morning. I love it for so many reasons.

The video is sensual without being as explicit as the stereotypical pole dancing video.

• Natural: It didn't have any commercial effect to it. You know that appeal that commercial porn videos have: perfectly waxed body, all-Italian, flowing hair and made up look. The pole dancer, who is also an instructor, Ashley Wright, has her natural hair in a casual next-door girl look. 

• Healthy: This will be a good workout. I guess, it will help with toning the abs, thighs and arms. I'm currently trying to incorporating fun classes/activities into my weekly work-out regimen. I run twice a week and go to the gym for a 20-min elliptical session, 5 minute cardio (treadmill), 10 minute weight-lifting. The scale is already showing positive results. 

In the spirit of spicing up my work out routine, I'm starting Thai boxing classes, next week at Tokei Centre, London Bridge. Thanks to this 8-pound deal

Will I be taking pole dancing classes sometime soon? I don't think so but I may erect a pole in my matrimonial bedroom. That shouldn't hurt. #jokes

Have a nice weekendPS: My two-year blogaversary is coming up in June. For the two-year hall mark, I will accept 20 questions. So feel free to leave the question in the comment box or email me at yinkuslolo@gmail.com

Why wasn't I good enough?

I ask myself this question almost every time I get rejected. Rejection is one of my greatest fears, next to dogs and failure in life. That is why I never ask for too much, even though I expect a lot.

I didn't get all A's in a semester. Why didn't I do better?

I got another "Sorry, we had more qualified applicants than vacancies." Why was I not a chosen one?

A relationship goes down the drain. Why wasn't I good enough?

I am not a perfectionist but I like to have it all. I never blog about my relationships on here. I keep it random but I got inspired by a SBM post with this same title.

I'm a 19 year old female in her prime. I like to date, amongst my other interests. Sometimes, I can be labelled as a serial dater. This means that I go on dates (not be in relationships) with different men within the same time frame. Although, I only go on dates with men that I sense a potential connection with. There may be that one dude (lets call him Pee) that captures attention. I try to put the best into my relationships and expect nothing short from Pee. I don't believe in “If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be". That's for the birds. If I love someone, I'm putting in work to be with him NOW! And when things don't turn out as rosy as I fantasized with Mr Pee, I keep myself occupied. I'm very fast with closures. I don't linger around if the handwriting on the wall is legible enough for me to see no future. I'm a rocker and I detest mourning the loss of someone or something. Mourning someone and letting it interfere with your happiness is not acceptable.

Sadly, my method is just a short-term fix. After a while, I begin to feel bad about the loss. This sadness may occur while I'm in a happy relationship with another partner. Sometimes,  the sadness occurs six months or more later. What hurts the most is the feeling of my not being good enough for Pee. What did I do wrong? Should I have worn heels on dates? Should I have laughed at Pee's attempts with sarcastic humor? Did I not reply his texts on time? Did he find someone better? Why wasn't I good enough?


Why wasn't I good enough? Scratch!
Why wasn't he patient enough to appreciate the good in me?
Maybe he just wasn't good enough for me.

Like always,
Je vous embrasse.

Disclaimer: This is the first post that puts me out there and it is probably going to be the last. Unlike the message of this post, I'm actually very happy and content with my current state ;) I just felt like putting this out.

PS: My two-year blogaversary is coming up in June. For the two-year hall mark, I will any 20 random questions. So feel free to leave the question in the comment box or email me at yinkuslolo@gmail.com

Osama Live & Death? Nigerian version

From the country that brought you Blackberry Babes, White Hunters, Beyonce and Rihanna, and rumored CSI: Las Gidi, Nigeria presents to you "Dead At Last, Complete Season 1". I love Naija though. Under 72 hours of his demise, we already have a series on Osama.

I'm mad that they called it Season 1. Is there supposed to be a season 2? On Osama's after-life with his 70 virgins perhaps. SMH.

WILL YOU BE BUYING?

Bisous.

PS: My two-year blogaversary is coming up in June. For the two-year hall mark, I will accept 20 questions. So feel free to leave the question in the comment box or email me at yinkuslolo@gmail.com