tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31436231841168502002024-03-07T03:47:30.007-05:00::The amalgamation of Me + Moi + Emi::Prepared and preserved In Nigeria, seasoned in Hungary, boiled in the USA and currently simmering in the UK. Call me a nomadic soul child?
"I have no unique talent, I am only passionately curious" - Bros EinsteinYinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-58337454950791054992012-05-10T17:56:00.000-04:002012-05-10T17:57:52.161-04:00Closure<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't know how to present this but the journey of this blog has reached its final destination. With three years and 117 posts under my belt, I cannot deny that there are many times that I have sought refuge by writing a post instead of whining by myself. Many thanks to the those who have read my posts, commented on them and/or related with my anguish, laughter, randomness and rants.<br />
<br />
When I started this blog, I was a freshman in college. This was in 2009. Today, I am two weeks away from proudly walking down the aisle with my diploma from a prestigious university in the US. At this point in my life, I have contemplated several career paths and I am almost confused. I know that my interests lie in for-profit social entrepreneurship, international development, photography and health systems improvement. I don't know how I am going to get to my desired position that will encompass all of these interests but I know that I am on the right path.<br />
<br />
That said, I will no longer blog via this outlet. I will still follow and read other blogs (500+) religiously via my google reader. However, I will start a new blog/chapter that is more reflective of this new phase of my life and it will not be anonymous.<br />
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If you find me, good for you :)<br />
<br />
Peace and light<br />
-Yinkuslolo </div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-39448503121771232412011-12-26T00:01:00.000-05:002011-12-26T00:01:00.943-05:00Year Recap - 2011 Edition.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Happy holidays!!! I was going through my blog archive and came across my <a href="http://yinkuslolo.blogspot.com/2011/01/2010-recap-happy-new-year.html">2010 recap</a>. It was a good read and I decided
to do a one for this year. This is definitely an online diary act.</div>
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So here we go with the 2011 recap.</div>
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Travelling</div>
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I thought 2010 was my euro trotting year but boy, 2011
brought it on. I travelled to similar or the same cities but I had more fun in
2011. Cities - Budapest (my home,
technically), London (study abroad), Wales, Oxford, Amsterdam, Brussels,
Oostende, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Venice, Abuja (my home in my heart), and of
course North-East Tri-state in the USA. I was glad that I got to visit my favorite city,
Paris, twice in 2011. It still remains my favorite Euro city, although
<a href="http://yinkuslolo.blogspot.com/2011/05/amsterdam-city-of-free-pictures.html">Amsterdam</a> is a major competitor in my heart. I should add Lisbon because I leave for there later today and would be there till the New Year's. I doubt 2012 would be as crazy because I would
be making more thoughtful choices in my countries and be more thrift with my
earnings for leisure travelling.<o:p> </o:p></div>
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I'm going to Geneva for 4 days, early January next year. I hope to venture to the south of France like Grenoble during my stay, fun times before my last semester as an undergraduate. Let me know if you have any suggestions for enjoyable activities in Lisbon and Geneva.</div>
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[Non-Platonic] Relationships</div>
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I seldom blog about this but 2011 had no romantic loving for
me. I did not fall in love but I went on way too many dates *cough*. Well, ‘too many’ is
relative to my dating history. I definitely understood love better this year but it remains a tricky concept. This year entailed a lot of marriage talk from my mother and friends. I paid
none of their persuasions attention because I was really busy and
geographically unstable, this year. However, I have started thinking about
it. I want to get married early but there are many feats,
like a terminal degree, that I desire to accomplish before taking such a major
step. Tsk tsk. I believe in settling own with the right person when you feel it is
the right time, simple. I will just continue to go with the flow. </div>
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Friendships</div>
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I have always been a social person but I lack tact in
choosing friends. In 2012, I will be working on making conscious choices on the kinds
of friends that I want to have, post-college. While I was abroad, I met some of
the best friends that I’ve ever had – shout out to Michelle and Kiah. It was
amazing to go abroad and make friends with like-minded students who had
truckloads of energy for adventure. The Nigerians at QMUL were also hilarious.
There is something weird about Britigerians, good weird. My main study abroad
friends are back to the US and our schools are far apart from each other but I
hope we stay in touch. My summer in Abuja also nurtured several friendships
from working with <a href="http://yinkuslolo.blogspot.com/2011/10/kay-another-addition.html">Kay</a> to hanging out with <a href="http://ms.oreoluwa/">Ms.Oreoluwa</a> and getting to know an awesome ‘curfew boy’. On another note, I was glad that I remained friends with my
college crew because I thought my semester abroad would strain our friendship
but it didn’t! College has taught me not to push myself unto people. Everybody that I want to be friends with must not be friends with me.</div>
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Finances</div>
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I was consciously lavish with the travels, party-hopping, eating
out etc while abroad and I loved every second. I was living my college dream and my purse
had to feel the impact. #Notmad. Nonetheless, I am still a student on
work-study. Thus, I had to find a way to repair the study abroad dent that I had made on my savings. This semester, I got a well-paid job as a Residential
Assistant position on campus. I have also cut my wardrobe spending. I have been
giving out lots of stuff too. Senior yr has been pro-decluttering.</div>
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Religion</div>
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2011 was not a very religious year for me, despite my <a href="http://yinkuslolo.blogspot.com/2011/10/learning-to-love-god-some-more-and.html">conscious effort to improve in the latter half</a>. I was concerned about
this in the fall and I wrote this post here. I am trying but I tend to shove my
spiritual ego aside because of academic and social commitments. I can only hope
for a better 2011. </div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
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Blogging</div>
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This blog is about 30 months old now and I currently have
120 or so followers. My blog traffic significantly decreased in 2011 as a
result of my minimal blogging. Much gratitude goes out to the readers who have I commend bloggers like <a href="http://lettersfromroyalty.blogspot.com/">Ms. Oreoluwa</a> and <a href="http://www.thirdworldprofashional.com/">TWP</a>,
who keep up with their blogs. </div>
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In sum, 2011 was eventful but I was happier in 2010. I know,
I know. I had too many solo sad moments in 2011, despite my busy schedule. Life
as an adult is definitiely not rosy. As usual, I have no New Year Resolutions but I’m starting
this year with more positivity. My only regret 2010 is that I did not perfect
my driving skills. My goal for 2012 is to become a confident car driver. I need
to stop depending on people to get me to places.. I’m
really excited to graduate from college this May with a Bachelors’ degree in
Neuroscience at 20. Unfortunately, I don’t know what I would definitely be up
to yet. Crossed fingers on my public health ambition.</div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<o:p>Btw, I finally won something i.e this awesome hand-made clutch made out of <i>adire,</i> below from <a href="http://zeldanfestus.blogspot.com/2011/11/oneyear-giveaway.html">Agsowho's one year giveaway</a>. She has an awesome blog, mostly about fashion. </o:p></div>
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<a href="http://mud.attach.mail.ymail.com/us.f303.mail.yahoo.com/ya/securedownload?mid=1_1983695_AEJFv9EAAPv4Tves2ANUKg9Lsrc&pid=2&fid=Inbox&inline=1&cred=38.iFysbGZZdGtFH7ZDAKRIjs0VaPMV9hYEfjj3DBeSa9dL3W8WpkOoeDswJvguZM.TsSQOqcIh2G.FROHBv1SkWbsoWrJMYpbJczIHhDDlxzfmbuALBrHINNHYPRoLkCspjw9n8UmKXgtdDLIcQ1NtsvBWXkVtJ9wd.krQt&ts=1324854829&partner=ymail&sig=j7gX1cv9zBw3puAABmr0Qw--" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://mud.attach.mail.ymail.com/us.f303.mail.yahoo.com/ya/securedownload?mid=1_1983695_AEJFv9EAAPv4Tves2ANUKg9Lsrc&pid=2&fid=Inbox&inline=1&cred=38.iFysbGZZdGtFH7ZDAKRIjs0VaPMV9hYEfjj3DBeSa9dL3W8WpkOoeDswJvguZM.TsSQOqcIh2G.FROHBv1SkWbsoWrJMYpbJczIHhDDlxzfmbuALBrHINNHYPRoLkCspjw9n8UmKXgtdDLIcQ1NtsvBWXkVtJ9wd.krQt&ts=1324854829&partner=ymail&sig=j7gX1cv9zBw3puAABmr0Qw--" width="400" /></a></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Have a rest of 2011 and an awesom 2012! Don’t get caught up making resolutions,
get it moving, time waits for no one.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Je t’embarasse<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
@yinkuslolo<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<!--EndFragment--></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com6Budapest, Hungary47.4984056 19.040757847.3267646 18.7249008 47.6700466 19.356614800000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-35885933409133558512011-10-23T02:09:00.000-04:002011-12-14T02:30:38.574-05:00Learning to love God some more (and again).<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In my last post, I briefly commented on the lack of spiritual ginger ( 'presence' for my Non-Nigerians) in my life and this has been bothering me lately.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This year has been on a downward slope, in terms of my religious awareness and I'm not proud of that. I've always been a only-sunday church goer but I was more spiritually conscious. Before, I didn't have to go to church before I prayed and showed thanks to God for my life and all the good things/people that I've been blessed with. Sadly, I can't remember the last time I thanked God for my meals, opportunities, mother, journey mercies et all in my life. I can go on and on about these things but I won't. I was going through my google reader and I read something on FarahMcQueen's photoblog on her love for God. It was like an awakening. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As silly as this may seem, I've setting a daily alarm on my phone to alert me of a 10am God appreciation period. I'm going to leave the agenda this time window open ended but I must praise God and communicate with him in some way, during that period. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sigh.</div>
<div>
<br />
_____________<br />
<br />
On a random note, I saw some black men chanting some persuasive comments by the roadside in Brooklyn, yesterday evening. They were dressed strangely and had a sign that read ' Tribes of Israel' beside them. That was bothersome. It was also my first time in Brooklyn. I decided to visit that borough. because I usually stay in Manhattan or Bronx. I'm in NY. I should visit Queens next time.<br />
<br />
I still wonder about what the Tribes of Israel men were on about. Weird stuff.<br />
<br />
_____________<br />
<br />
Peace, love and hope for spiritual ginger. </div>
</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-64111162856221347462011-10-19T00:32:00.001-04:002011-10-23T01:33:25.741-04:00Kay, another addition.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This summer, I was opportuned to work in a youth-led Nigerian NGO, Education as a Vaccine (EVA). EVA focuses on issues that affect the sexual and reproductive health of Nigerian youth. I was the Advocacy Intern, in the Headquarters/FCT office. This post is not about my experience at EVA, which was great, but about my relationship with someone that I met there.<br />
<br />
For the purpose of this post, I will call the someone 'Kay'. At my first day at work, I was assigned to work with Kay under a designated supervisor. Kay is 24 and I'm 19. The 5-year age difference did not affect the way we related with one another. Kay is one of the most passionate young Nigerians that I've ever met till date. We worked, talked, prayed, ate together, did random stuff and talked some more. Kay is a church worker, a wonderful sister to her siblings, a dedicated volunteer at EVA and a part-time 300Level Sociology student. This may not seem like a lot of responsibilities but she is as busy as it gets for a Nigerian student. Nonetheless , she is not perfect but I'll focus on her positives. We all have our faults.<br />
<br />
During work hours, we will talk about my weekend escapades, from my clubbing rendezvous to pool chilling at Chelsea. She doesn't approve of my nighttime activities and tries her best to get me to attend her church programs at House on the Rock (HOTR). The first and only time that I went to her church program, a young Honorable was hitting on me. Kay was surprised that I already got a man in just one attendance. We often joked about what will happen if I attended a Sunday service - if I could get a Honorable at first attendance, I may get a Minister with constant attendance. Need less to say, I didn't attend any more programs at her church and it wasn't because of the Honorable. I have always been a Christian but my religious mojo faded in college. After 12 years of education at an Anglican missionary primary and secondary school, I unintentionally took a break in college. I need to step up my spiritual/religious game. I've never talked to a peer about God as much as I did with her. I didn't even realize when I learnt the HOTR youth theme song, thanks to Kay's constant humming. It was refreshing to be around someone that was religious and conscious of her morals. Let me remind you that Kay is not perfect.<br />
<br />
Kay also made me more aware of the fact that wealth isn't everything. She is not from a very wealthy family but she holds such a high esteem of herself. There was an episode at the galleria, when we bumped into one of her friends and she talked to the friend in a manner that surprised me. I could tell that the friend was from a wealthy family and was one of the those people with an egoistic atttitude. I forgot to mention that Kay is also very opinionated and intelligent at that.<br />
<br />
I miss her commentary on how fast I type, criticism for the amount of skin that my friends show in photos, displeasure with my club outings, admiration for my "don't dull" attitude, never-ending discussion about the type of friends that I hang out with, reminder about the importance of marriage, joint breaks to eat Aunty Ajobi moi-moi and so many other precious memories.<br />
<br />
I can go on and on about Kay. She was one of my favorite additions to my life, from this summer.<br />
<br />
<3<br />
<br />
*****<br />
Unedited, like always.<br />
All gramm. errors are mine, do not claim.<br />
<br />
<br />
______________________________________<br />
New video from Tuface for 'Outside'. Tubaba!<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ouq_R0vxAR4" width="420"></iframe>
</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-15421591265442158342011-10-18T02:36:00.000-04:002011-10-18T16:55:06.972-04:00I am alive<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm going to be one of those bloggers that dusts the cobweb off her blog and go on and on about how she missed blogging et al. I really do. I can't believe that I've not published a post in 4 months. I spent the past 10 minutes reading my 2010 posts and I can't help but laugh at the unedited pieces of my poorly-written thoughts and excerpts of my experience on here. Blogger has even changed the dashboard template, that's how long that I've been gone. <br />
<br />
Mid-June, I left London, in too much of a hurry even though I knew the date that I was to leave months before. I am just the queen of procrastination. I had too many last minute errands to run, from buying a strapless bra for my party dress to giving out my bag of garri to my London acquaintances. Then, I went to Nigeria to start my summer internship, which was great, but I didn't blog about it. I don't know how Nigeria-based bloggers do it but I lose my blogging mojo whenever I'm in Nigeria. The slow internet connection and non-stop social activities do not help either. <br />
<br />
Mid-August, I came back early to my host university in the US to start my senior year because I had a 2 week training for my Residential Assistant (RA) position. Since then, I've been in many situations where I compose a blogspot in my head but lack the time to sit down and type it out. This semester is my busiest so far. I'm taking 7 classes, a TA for a class, an RA, the President of my school African Students' Association, in addition to my active participation in two other student groups. The problem is that I don't have enough hours in the day, yet I add more items to my box of commitments. It somehow works because the busier that I am, the more productive I get. Nevertheless, all these activities can not take the place of blogging because I actually love blogging and the lack of any set frequency or topic in mind that comes with it. <br />
<br />
On another note, I can't cope with all these e-technological advancements. In a bid to catch up, I decided to switch up my blog template, after 2 years. Let me know if it is unpleasant or confusing. Earlier this night, it took me more than 5 minutes to figure out how to deactivate my Facebook account. I almost gave up on deactivating my FB account but the amount of time that I spend on FB is unhealthy. The maximum that I've spent lately is 1 hr/day but I can't afford such this semester. I have already deactivated my twitter and will only reactivate during my breaks or trips off-campus. I really need to concentrate on my academic pursuit, this semester. Why do I sound like a nerd? Am I one? Nah.<br />
<br />
As you can tell at this point, this post has no specific direction. I just want to type away my thoughts as they come to me and revive this blog. I am surprised at how I can whip out a blogpost in 20 minutes but it takes me a whole day to write a 2-page paper. Talking about writing, I need to improve on that. I can only avoid taking paper-writing classes in college but I need to be able to come up with logical statements and well-written proposals, when I get a job.<br />
<br />
Enough with the rambling. The girl who lives above me is at it again because I can hear her bed creaking. I've talked to her and emailed her about it but she hasn't called Physical Plant to fix her bed yet. I guess she wants me to decode her chexing melody from her creaking bed, by the end of the semester. Not interested.<br />
<br />
It's 2:30am, I should go to bed.<br />
<br />
If you're still reading this post to this point, I salute you.<br />
<br />
<br />
'Night!</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-68486391723585087522011-06-02T21:03:00.001-04:002011-06-03T06:08:20.920-04:00I Thank God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">For every thing, opportunity, disappointment and person that has been a blessing to me.<br />
<br />
I do not do this enough. I'm learning.<br />
<br />
<br />
Always,<br />
Yinkuslolo<br />
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Ps: comments have been disabled for this post<br />
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</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-90939063163356203122011-05-25T08:11:00.001-04:002011-05-25T17:53:57.551-04:00Cannot wear my glasses anymore, without thinking of pee.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Monday morning 23/04/11<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Le sigh,<br />
Yinkuslolo<br />
-----<br />
I'm on train to Oxford, one of my attempts to leave the London bubble and appreciate other parts of this British awesomeness.<br />
<br />
Update: Oxford was beautiful. It looked like Windsor to me with the Harry Potter feel. </div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-14322100299984569832011-05-18T16:07:00.003-04:002011-05-20T22:57:14.337-04:00Amsterdam - The city of free (Pictures)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2Hr258eUS7EXHKsKHVmCNxnpxck1W9WGWe_hA-4Q1rOP70yu_Noa2sJ29W9viFYHmZOznTriKsXw6CO-EnxEgiumHwp3417sBdg759Pjj0rLUuHfVydMkrwTivnfE9hnnq7E2TEv0RcM/s1600/IMG_5157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2Hr258eUS7EXHKsKHVmCNxnpxck1W9WGWe_hA-4Q1rOP70yu_Noa2sJ29W9viFYHmZOznTriKsXw6CO-EnxEgiumHwp3417sBdg759Pjj0rLUuHfVydMkrwTivnfE9hnnq7E2TEv0RcM/s400/IMG_5157.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical street divider in Amsterdam. Canals everywhere. Loves it</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh52e6BwXSI_kZUXwDxzCPw2igdVpfe429ljlMICneKnWKPfrmAKzi5vKeBchQRDNfRCv3l6whjbaQqaAz5bvxXCAWZGTbSEcIZ-mN_fbNXg9K9XktIly6H8HEcW5W8iNNZ-DlRqA01kl2/s1600/IMG_5266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh52e6BwXSI_kZUXwDxzCPw2igdVpfe429ljlMICneKnWKPfrmAKzi5vKeBchQRDNfRCv3l6whjbaQqaAz5bvxXCAWZGTbSEcIZ-mN_fbNXg9K9XktIly6H8HEcW5W8iNNZ-DlRqA01kl2/s400/IMG_5266.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone and their aunt's cats ride a bicycle in Amsterdam no joke. There are more bicycles than there are cars.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenHEay94iggLOfHsSDIA8zQ_uSMXP5Y4wnB8OGfnR-g9J1I0qasE4naRWM6s4PEbuHF0PYvqmLBcnrJ8muaLKZMl-a7b4-c7O51Hw39KEvSYUI3KxVWj1d3kgLTU8EYkjcHTOag_pyyC9/s1600/IMG_5139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenHEay94iggLOfHsSDIA8zQ_uSMXP5Y4wnB8OGfnR-g9J1I0qasE4naRWM6s4PEbuHF0PYvqmLBcnrJ8muaLKZMl-a7b4-c7O51Hw39KEvSYUI3KxVWj1d3kgLTU8EYkjcHTOag_pyyC9/s400/IMG_5139.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most streets in Amsterdam are divided by canals, not roads. Bliss. Imagine this view, every morning</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjew9S82Hvpn3Yp-DjcvPdUUGwI8iThXPOk76w7SYW1bxvporeKeHjC_n04W3WiScday2jDoBeh_CWYw9Caa0XVW7EjwZ96WMrdboqIOvXqaelMZHqwflqLvUzu701-HQBAXs9nxsmR0P9O/s1600/IMG_5146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjew9S82Hvpn3Yp-DjcvPdUUGwI8iThXPOk76w7SYW1bxvporeKeHjC_n04W3WiScday2jDoBeh_CWYw9Caa0XVW7EjwZ96WMrdboqIOvXqaelMZHqwflqLvUzu701-HQBAXs9nxsmR0P9O/s400/IMG_5146.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to Anne Frank Haus (Haus = House in German)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>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.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPIwKLQOfYTs8Qty7d48IxYyTzDxYJAJRiD73r_kVMiVPV5VQIUlm6PdkpB5_JNCB5sxb3VkGPdIMEQ2xjW71aQd2m24aqd7FG3P2JBoJfMfTVf9dQDNzUaebr13Ybq848VeOdFsxKhSy/s1600/IMG_5149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPIwKLQOfYTs8Qty7d48IxYyTzDxYJAJRiD73r_kVMiVPV5VQIUlm6PdkpB5_JNCB5sxb3VkGPdIMEQ2xjW71aQd2m24aqd7FG3P2JBoJfMfTVf9dQDNzUaebr13Ybq848VeOdFsxKhSy/s400/IMG_5149.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">queue to get into Anne Frank Haus</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1RkPa4_ZZTBvBmRphziXBRhRK6YP0sEuAIYN8-YYiwN7iP55Ohyphenhyphen8FQAwIBhyphenhyphenXBoz2F1g5JQh-Fwh7PACIl-H_63W4cCNXpr3eYorFZ8VWm5zFwCmfgRS9qZnaBo0HEsqGSrAONyV4Lt9/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1RkPa4_ZZTBvBmRphziXBRhRK6YP0sEuAIYN8-YYiwN7iP55Ohyphenhyphen8FQAwIBhyphenhyphenXBoz2F1g5JQh-Fwh7PACIl-H_63W4cCNXpr3eYorFZ8VWm5zFwCmfgRS9qZnaBo0HEsqGSrAONyV4Lt9/s400/IMG_5153.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne Frank Haus guide booklet</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCHJZkcAgI1-De_pcU6XiU4FVMNKxqhQvFIcVGqMFHX4BMMzqdAEse9QZc0KPO8q-3d6TAmp8vPRcjytt48KNMPiyuiBbU-WO3RfTJ0wMfo5_t9wSvuGtc3G9p4YVz9b9GWZ0ydpYZEIX/s1600/IMG_5171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCHJZkcAgI1-De_pcU6XiU4FVMNKxqhQvFIcVGqMFHX4BMMzqdAEse9QZc0KPO8q-3d6TAmp8vPRcjytt48KNMPiyuiBbU-WO3RfTJ0wMfo5_t9wSvuGtc3G9p4YVz9b9GWZ0ydpYZEIX/s400/IMG_5171.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are kiosks everywhere that sell fries in these cone-like wraps. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>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.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0nL2Fy-ORrRg278N76kZokbz4fHpgb1OxbDLYA8iRT4N_zmZvRc8hPrIJ0Hh9dH8ioRgYaCNchbp_ZxLqy9ojA8TQUUaNcGvjvRafSJ1JrbmsmIhn2smEjEJlfRQXz1sO1StcOxRw3t-/s1600/IMG_5176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0nL2Fy-ORrRg278N76kZokbz4fHpgb1OxbDLYA8iRT4N_zmZvRc8hPrIJ0Hh9dH8ioRgYaCNchbp_ZxLqy9ojA8TQUUaNcGvjvRafSJ1JrbmsmIhn2smEjEJlfRQXz1sO1StcOxRw3t-/s400/IMG_5176.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat cruise along the Amstel</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLK9V6T60vQV3fgaJYU_5naF59-n_GhyHhodGaZ5E8EzPumnmnj-LRwWc3ZL3lNtB7kPLj1vY8KgtOl1uAkmOvktiQ85EdNZB8wx2afIKTHo93y3IHvIZrt2NoncTFPc2SshrNs0c7JH6/s1600/IMG_5178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLK9V6T60vQV3fgaJYU_5naF59-n_GhyHhodGaZ5E8EzPumnmnj-LRwWc3ZL3lNtB7kPLj1vY8KgtOl1uAkmOvktiQ85EdNZB8wx2afIKTHo93y3IHvIZrt2NoncTFPc2SshrNs0c7JH6/s400/IMG_5178.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGEGtrBMnpURt33ZzVh-k3ziBkITdHZWZVarFOOkJNPr_ZmyVV9Z_FfeiYtCiXn1Fbks-oZ5NDI7BNUM8ROitupscG3fQeGIHP6TB8619mcnIxVawdEWddRtltAHGQkZ61AQOX9j1pjGO/s1600/IMG_5195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGEGtrBMnpURt33ZzVh-k3ziBkITdHZWZVarFOOkJNPr_ZmyVV9Z_FfeiYtCiXn1Fbks-oZ5NDI7BNUM8ROitupscG3fQeGIHP6TB8619mcnIxVawdEWddRtltAHGQkZ61AQOX9j1pjGO/s400/IMG_5195.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSELb_3CjsspnM5kBrA1Ml_Pr-6NNe9Zhj5hPSwjfI-LcqHJD_2XvHaj10nYX4rS_eK9jlf54E9Puy_I-583ybWhsqOs1UGPEZt4o009b1lr6dDiY-Jdo66b9G8WHes-WFYH8PR5vL73c/s1600/IMG_5206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSELb_3CjsspnM5kBrA1Ml_Pr-6NNe9Zhj5hPSwjfI-LcqHJD_2XvHaj10nYX4rS_eK9jlf54E9Puy_I-583ybWhsqOs1UGPEZt4o009b1lr6dDiY-Jdo66b9G8WHes-WFYH8PR5vL73c/s400/IMG_5206.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Children left by themselves in a boat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPAm9xRwr1ypEthgHqqwugEQHPtRqGnfGX1Y-60TXCbh6bfCSh9hCva0JAyfyD97Z2usbdLLWetzPx_2YCobascYjw5AsacFiYr7dampRhAISE1fV54lum1l0DxUAgEFK234tlxDk5npU/s1600/IMG_5207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPAm9xRwr1ypEthgHqqwugEQHPtRqGnfGX1Y-60TXCbh6bfCSh9hCva0JAyfyD97Z2usbdLLWetzPx_2YCobascYjw5AsacFiYr7dampRhAISE1fV54lum1l0DxUAgEFK234tlxDk5npU/s400/IMG_5207.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Famous <i>Skinny Bridge</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>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.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha07366GNPqRFPSXs9eo_mWeO7m57-WWmhBPdXh98C_sJGcDkJD1nYin4LM4zwerIQbWl4Jg4EXqqkDXHOuQ9KQHthlGOFpHYidgoIGTrTMH67OojNGcCMqLhkSfj_GdXuheZn3KtEv1Qe/s1600/IMG_5223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha07366GNPqRFPSXs9eo_mWeO7m57-WWmhBPdXh98C_sJGcDkJD1nYin4LM4zwerIQbWl4Jg4EXqqkDXHOuQ9KQHthlGOFpHYidgoIGTrTMH67OojNGcCMqLhkSfj_GdXuheZn3KtEv1Qe/s640/IMG_5223.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Club sign in the Red Light District. Prostitutes everywhere</td></tr>
</tbody></table>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.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHL1BK5szotYpbrbheHv3JPjvxXPIF1ZCuvcBL0czTsgwCw6xu1ejB9rxMsfjn7FYtTc6CzVue_GcUlo0VCrxwvknazEWGXBGUW8bx1MH2FZFXyChpl5bUu_FMU4K2a5mlDtt5xwBoqUdt/s1600/IMG_5245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHL1BK5szotYpbrbheHv3JPjvxXPIF1ZCuvcBL0czTsgwCw6xu1ejB9rxMsfjn7FYtTc6CzVue_GcUlo0VCrxwvknazEWGXBGUW8bx1MH2FZFXyChpl5bUu_FMU4K2a5mlDtt5xwBoqUdt/s400/IMG_5245.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinks made from weed. Cannabis merchandise in coffee shop window</td></tr>
</tbody></table>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!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwYgAAolrt0d53msBHE1SmWj9QPzKul_vHRaFFwuW7KtxQfnwVJVLxS6iGxGLK55Unl4e9HNit4qxF5geL4HS8o6F1UsHg_3k7Y_oS6Wph2p_4zBiWjaX0cVoMppW_Wv6T6d78oXIgWFR/s1600/IMG_5247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwYgAAolrt0d53msBHE1SmWj9QPzKul_vHRaFFwuW7KtxQfnwVJVLxS6iGxGLK55Unl4e9HNit4qxF5geL4HS8o6F1UsHg_3k7Y_oS6Wph2p_4zBiWjaX0cVoMppW_Wv6T6d78oXIgWFR/s400/IMG_5247.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weed lolli-pops</td></tr>
</tbody></table>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. <i>No bueno</i>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1YQf9p_B-9XI0QNWOLQ9yGMvMsPQsYjk6ZE88kvcJwMbPOh1hniE4-qcB_g4Bfs_4bqVJ_OYmlECaHZKuF0YbUaMvBrSNjsE8XM3vc5jShy-2H_OCuKKUm3_sgm7itO0F32GBkIKDwix/s1600/IMG_5276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD1YQf9p_B-9XI0QNWOLQ9yGMvMsPQsYjk6ZE88kvcJwMbPOh1hniE4-qcB_g4Bfs_4bqVJ_OYmlECaHZKuF0YbUaMvBrSNjsE8XM3vc5jShy-2H_OCuKKUm3_sgm7itO0F32GBkIKDwix/s320/IMG_5276.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Main structure for Amsterdam's chinatow</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3yy-Z_SsmnDZA8DEHgNaYwKCu51U3oNP-w3-TT5Zr3_19H_-Cta_AKIQU59gCEkRwAsVo0qGzgfq6JMQAGM9r32qHlkHFjeTgHdW51atCxI6rESHe7RAz0J3l71wxAPrr3c1GyvNWw8n9/s1600/IMG_5286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3yy-Z_SsmnDZA8DEHgNaYwKCu51U3oNP-w3-TT5Zr3_19H_-Cta_AKIQU59gCEkRwAsVo0qGzgfq6JMQAGM9r32qHlkHFjeTgHdW51atCxI6rESHe7RAz0J3l71wxAPrr3c1GyvNWw8n9/s400/IMG_5286.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wooden Tulips at Flea Market</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TP_Rk3Tl923TrnyRgw__eOoDKgqVpRiH_VGuKOR1zIOR5RzFSmMWNvF7TzzNirIFZiLLRREn1LaeK8ly3pwzZJxEzW_yJYLFyNIy7CUJvPlDYJxBH2o31I6htp4zS5pDdlGC7wjFffjZ/s1600/IMG_5295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TP_Rk3Tl923TrnyRgw__eOoDKgqVpRiH_VGuKOR1zIOR5RzFSmMWNvF7TzzNirIFZiLLRREn1LaeK8ly3pwzZJxEzW_yJYLFyNIy7CUJvPlDYJxBH2o31I6htp4zS5pDdlGC7wjFffjZ/s400/IMG_5295.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Human-size Chess board.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">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.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-A1ErduRtPmKzacVTeMZd5NmgE9jx0NE1IfemNUMMGLrp87PD3Y4iBwqtnFHRgmoWxFK9S4LMrt5G1BKlvMeRDIRjXdV5wwjain9z2Qq1aM_Dk3GbM55jpDps8PHWrQLfxvEgIbOS9eO/s1600/IMG_5302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-A1ErduRtPmKzacVTeMZd5NmgE9jx0NE1IfemNUMMGLrp87PD3Y4iBwqtnFHRgmoWxFK9S4LMrt5G1BKlvMeRDIRjXdV5wwjain9z2Qq1aM_Dk3GbM55jpDps8PHWrQLfxvEgIbOS9eO/s400/IMG_5302.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign, in front of Van Gogh museum</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Till next time,<br />
Yinkuslolo.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">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 <a href="mailto:yinkuslolo@gmail.com" style="color: #2244bb; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">yinkuslolo@gmail.com</a></span></div></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-16258741167862275112011-05-14T16:08:00.005-04:002011-05-15T08:27:22.336-04:00On Pole Dancing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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<center><object height="390" width="640"><param name="movie" value="https://www.youtube.com/v/wIAeV_WLfhE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="https://www.youtube.com/v/wIAeV_WLfhE?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" height="390" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
I've watched this video more than five times, since morning. I love it for so many reasons.<br />
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The video is sensual without being as explicit as the stereotypical pole dancing video.<br />
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<center style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>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. </li>
</ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>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. </li>
</ul><div style="text-align: center;">In the spirit of spicing up my work out routine, I'm starting <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muay_Thai">Thai boxing classes</a>, next week at Tokei Centre, London Bridge. Thanks to this <a href="http://www.londondailydeals.co.uk/group-buying-deals/one-months-membership-at-tokei-martial-arts-centre/">8-pound deal</a></div></center></center><center><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><img alt="kickboxing_pic.jpg" src="webkit-fake-url://0CF771CC-195E-4058-809C-E888BA51C31D/kickboxing_pic.jpg" /><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;">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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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Have a nice weekend</center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">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 <a href="mailto:yinkuslolo@gmail.com" style="color: #2244bb; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">yinkuslolo@gmail.com</a></span></center></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-63977413471383065412011-05-10T20:20:00.006-04:002011-05-10T21:58:20.427-04:00Why wasn't I good enough?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">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.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">I didn't get all A's in a semester. Why didn't I do better?</div><div style="text-align: center;">I got another "Sorry, we had more qualified applicants than vacancies." Why was I not a chosen one?</div><div style="text-align: center;">A relationship goes down the drain. Why wasn't I good enough?</div><br />
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<a href="http://www.singleblackmale.org/2011/05/09/she-just-wasnt-good-enough/"> </a><a href="http://www.singleblackmale.org/2011/05/09/she-just-wasnt-good-enough/">SBM post</a> with this same title.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"></span>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.<br />
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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?<br />
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Why wasn't I good enough? Scratch!<br />
Why wasn't he patient enough to appreciate the good in me?<br />
Maybe he just wasn't good enough for me.<br />
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</div>Like always,<br />
<i>Je vous embrasse</i>.<br />
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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.<br />
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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</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-57153407789503098972011-05-05T13:43:00.003-04:002011-05-05T13:47:40.475-04:00Osama Live & Death? Nigerian version<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8USEfBu31aLwHjEc-4W_R_ZhtAT5Loc-n4d08uimiciYda9FFH3E_0lgR2G6ozKoRlV16gc8LmWV5zF4IKLWGh7kLaXF7qK-QBT2CQ7BydYLwy0TacwUf7vwjGnUj7ecjbcqP_MH7k7b/s1600/230348_10150235700088488_119586108487_8778338_4567587_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8USEfBu31aLwHjEc-4W_R_ZhtAT5Loc-n4d08uimiciYda9FFH3E_0lgR2G6ozKoRlV16gc8LmWV5zF4IKLWGh7kLaXF7qK-QBT2CQ7BydYLwy0TacwUf7vwjGnUj7ecjbcqP_MH7k7b/s400/230348_10150235700088488_119586108487_8778338_4567587_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>From the country that brought you <i>Blackberry Babes, White Hunters, Beyonce and Rihanna</i>, and rumored <i>CSI: Las Gidi</i>, Nigeria presents to you "<i>Dead At Last, Complete Season 1</i>". I love Naija though. Under 72 hours of his demise, we already have a series on Osama. <br />
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</div><div>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. </div><div><br />
</div><div><b>WILL YOU BE BUYING?</b></div><div><br />
</div><div>Bisous. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">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 <a href="mailto:yinkuslolo@gmail.com" style="color: #2244bb;" target="_blank">yinkuslolo@gmail.com</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><img alt="" height="1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3143623184116850200-2134007276411095127?l=yinkuslolo.blogspot.com" width="1" /></div></div></div></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-21340072764110951272011-04-30T19:00:00.008-04:002011-05-09T11:08:07.497-04:00Skin Deep<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;">Race is just a social construct set for discrimination. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Why can't we use nose sizes to categorise people?</div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Why must we use skin color to fit people into check-boxes?</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm black and I have no problem with that.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Black pride at its best. </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Nodding at the random dark-skinned fellow seated across me on the tube.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Using the darkest shade of MAC Studio Fix, NC 55. </div></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"></div></div>I have no inferiority complex for being closer to the darker end of the spectrum.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">That is not only because black don't crack. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But because racial distinctions are only <b>skin deep.</b></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Did I hear someone claim that we live in a post-race society.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh yeah? I beg to differ. Mind the Gap. </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Why do we have affirmative action? </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Positive discrimination is about equality between people of different ethnicities.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">This is not a ploy to boycott the regular procedure to favor the less privileged. </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">What do I know?</div></div><div><br />
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</div><div>Like always,<br />
<i>Je t'embrasse.</i><br />
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</div></div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LjvUMr1-AAU" width="640"></iframe><br />
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PS: My two-year blogaversary is coming up in June. I appreciate the support from my blog followers thus far. Passively reading or actively commenting on my posts means a lot. I'm just a bad writer trying to pen down my opinions and a few happenings in my life. For the two-year hall mark, I will be accepting 20 questions. So feel free to leave the question in the comment box or email me at <a href="mailto:yinkuslolo@gmail.com">yinkuslolo@gmail.com</a></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-18437678338437043982011-04-27T02:32:00.006-04:002011-04-30T02:14:16.134-04:00Boobs again! Inspired by 'Help save my mom' fund<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This is not meant to be a post but I was inspired from something that I read while I was appreciating the awesomeness of tweetdeck. That app is awesome. On the other hand, I get no work done now, even though my exams are knocking on the door<br />
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Last night, I was procrastinating on my TL (Timeline in Twitter lingo, similar to FB's NewsFeed). Some people were ranting as usual. Some had horny epiphanies. Some were famzing (Nigerian lingo for associating yourself with people probably on celebrity status, similar to groupies) with the soon-to-be royal couple. But a couple of tweeps (people on twitter, tw + peeps = tweeps) were asking for support to a cause.<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Shame less plug, follow me on twitter </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/yinkuslolo">@yinkuslolo</a></span></i><br />
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As usual, my curious self decided to investigate and I discovered that some Nigerian guy is raising money for his mum's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mastectomy">mastectomy</a> because she has stage III breast cancer. He is trying to raise $60, 000, that is more than 9 Million Naira. That is a lot of money but worldwide donations have been going on all night. Within 8 hours, (<i>yes I'm still up, from 11pm through 7am)</i> I saw the donations go from $399 to over $14, 000. The power of the Internet and kind-hearted people cannot be overstimated. Even a fundraising walk will most likely not accomplish this in such a short amount of time. I don't know the family but I pray that he gathers sufficient money for the cause and God's grace for the mom's operation. Through the night, a few thoughts crossed my mind about the reason why that lump sum of money was needed and about breast cancer.<a href="https://www.wepay.com/donate/92676"> Click here for the link to donation page </a><br />
<blockquote>Thank you for taking out time to read this. I am writing to appeal to you for your prayers and financial assistance. My mom has been diagnosed by The University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center with stage III breast cancer. Because she is uninsured, she needs to come up with $60, 000 to have her left breast removed in the next 2-3 weeks. I can’t put a dollar amount on my mom’s life, but I really really need your help now. Nothing is too small. Thank you and God bless. For those outside the US, help through paypal using email: aade-fosudo@uh.edu</blockquote>From the fund blurb above, I gathered that the operation is scheduled to take place in the States. Nice! Although I'm going to my fourth year college, I have not been to the hospital in the States, as a patient but I've volunteered in one before. From my occasional visits to my university health center, I highly commend the quality of the American health care. Unlike in Nigeria, if you don't have a good insurance coverage in the States, you will pay an arm and a leg for health services. Most people in the US get insurance through their jobs, which in turn makes employers lower their employment rate because of insurance premium charges and similar bills. I don't know much about this but I think it will be better if the US adopts the UK NHS style or tries some capitalist method. Hopefully, Obama's health care reform will make the health care more accessible to low-income earning Americans. The mother in need of support doesn't have insurance (and I don't know why), which explains why the price for the operation is that high.<br />
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As per breast cancer, I feel very strongly about this subject not because it is related to boobs. Breast cancer is the most commonly occurring cancer in middle-aged women. Ok, I definitely like talking about boobs, as shown on this blog from my post on <a href="http://yinkuslolo.blogspot.com/2010/05/that-underwear-game.html">Underwear game</a> to my rants about the size of my own jewels. I also got a new bra at bravissimo today. There I go again with my TMI (too much information). Back to breast cancer, the obvious side effects may be going through tedious chemotherapy, losing a boob(s), or death in chronic cases. Chemo leads to hair loss, mastectomy leaves you without a boob or both boobs and death takes the life away. I don't think any of these options is desired by anyone.<br />
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Ladies, please and please (tautology for emphasis), conduct your breast self-exam every 3 months. Society seems to be more receptive of people's confessions of touching themselves nowadays. This is different, ladies touch and feel your boobs for your health's sake. Cancer is not a respecter of person or age. Your noticing a lump-like tissue in your breast can prevent cancer and/or severe operation. I was tweeting about this earlier and some lady said that her boyfriend has conducted the breast exam for her before. I think that it is okay to include your self-exam in foreplay, masturbation or any sexual activity. The main point is to observe the basics and not get distracted.<br />
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Below is a tutorial (video) for breast self-exam, if you don't know how to or if you need some clarity. <br />
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<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" height="382" id="videojugplayer" width="640"><param name="movie" value="http://www.videojug.com/player?id=894b736a-b88e-42f8-6211-db6f4580c808"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.videojug.com/player?id=894b736a-b88e-42f8-6211-db6f4580c808" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" height="396" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always"></embed></object><br />
<a href="http://www.videojug.com/tag/self-check">Self-Check</a>: <a href="http://www.videojug.com/film/how-to-become-breast-self-aware">How To Become Breast Self Aware</a><br />
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A little something extra for you, this video is a wonderful cover of Chris Brown's 'Look at me now' Enjoy!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/khCokQt--l4" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
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On that note, I announce my undying love for boobs. Everyone loves a good rack. Ladies take good care of yours.<br />
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Je t'embrasse.<br />
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PS: I hope everyone had a good Easter break, elections in Nigeria and bank holidays in the UK. I'm going to get my <i><a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=aso%20ebi">Aso-Ebi</a></i> outfit for the Royal Wedding from my tailor tomorrow. Look out for my the fancy <i>gele</i> (<i>Yoruba</i> headgear) in the congregation at St.Paul's on Friday.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Update: I was obviously famzing. St.Paul's is not the name of the church where the wedding took place and I watched the ceremony from my bed. Yay to live streaming on the internet. Thanks to technology.</span></span><br />
<br />
PPS: My London-Budapest-Amsterdam-Brussels-Paris-Madrid two-week trip was so much fun. That's the longest multi-city trip that I've ever embarked on. Too much ridonkulousness. I should post some pics and tales from it soon.</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-4504628387319639982011-04-07T18:35:00.006-04:002011-04-07T18:54:45.393-04:00Can you live in a 90sq feet apartment?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Watch the video of a lady below. She literally sleeps 1 foot below her ceiling because she lives in a 90sq ft apartment.<br />
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My thought on this: Classic case of keeping it real. I see no point in accumulating debts because you want to be fancy. At the same time, you should strive to live comfortably. NYC, especially Manhattan, is very expensive. With that $700 that she pays, she can get a nice 2-bedroom flat in the DMV. I can't knock her hustle<br />
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I have to learn some storage and conservation tips from her (as a fellow lady), for real. At the end of last semester, I had to make three car trips to my storage because of how much stuff that I had accumulated in less than 3 years. I can't believe that I went to the States with just <b>two </b>boxes in 2008. I need to go into retail rehab. I stay ordering things from China and Australia. I know worse people though. I mean, fashion bloggers seem to have lots of clothing. <span style="font-size: x-small;">How big is their closet? </span><br />
<br />
My question for her is "How do you live without a kitchen, three years and counting?<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JZSdrtEqcHU" title="YouTube video player" width="640">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;ww&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe></div><br />
<br />
Bisous!<br />
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PS: It's so warm in Europe man. Looks like I may be copping some shorts during my trip. Btw, I still do not know what to do in Belgium for two days, besides munching waffles. I need ideas :)<br />
<br />
Amsterdam in 6 hours. <br />
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Stay Blessed.</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-49499570804436537422011-04-02T23:55:00.003-04:002011-04-04T12:16:47.972-04:00enjoy! British royalty and elites can be Facebook savvy?<object width="640" height="472"><param name="movie" value="http://www.bbc.co.uk/emp/external/player.swf"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="FlashVars" value="config_settings_showUpdatedInFooter=true&config_settings_showFullScreenButton=true&config_settings_showPopoutButton=false&config_settings_bitrateCeiling=1000&playlist=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ebbc%2Eco%2Euk%2Fcomedy%2Fforge%2Dassets%2Fextra%2Fplaylist%2Fp00c70wr%2Exml&config_settings_skin=black&config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ebbc%2Eco%2Euk%2Fcomedy%2Fforge%2Dassets%2Fextra%2Femp%2Fempconfig%2Exml&config_settings_showFooter=true&"><embed src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/emp/external/player.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" flashvars="config_settings_showUpdatedInFooter=true&config_settings_showFullScreenButton=true&config_settings_showPopoutButton=false&config_settings_bitrateCeiling=1000&playlist=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ebbc%2Eco%2Euk%2Fcomedy%2Fforge%2Dassets%2Fextra%2Fplaylist%2Fp00c70wr%2Exml&config_settings_skin=black&config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ebbc%2Eco%2Euk%2Fcomedy%2Fforge%2Dassets%2Fextra%2Femp%2Fempconfig%2Exml&config_settings_showFooter=true&" width="640" height="472"></embed></object><br /><br />Hopefully. I'm home in Budapest, when this gets published.<br /><br /><i>Je t'embarasse.</i><br />PS: I need recommendations of what to do in Belgium, besides eating the famous waffles.Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-65192798746492381592011-03-30T17:50:00.006-04:002011-03-30T19:56:36.526-04:00Thoughts running through my mind while I was running through the park<style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Hey <strike>readers</strike> lovers, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">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. </span><span lang="EN-GB">London is very sunny today; it reminds me of my 2010 spring break in Los Angeles.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyMN72pDVN0wq_1_WcvB0E5XIrwkTNUpNe7MEgpZ8LipBs6fwpQ3bnD2t16n8aLc6Gx1d_gSncFdC2BGKPijw8eQ2ciKv9iXkEauUvyojxokZzjW1SVRcl9sX2NnQYgfZKydwQXP6Kddm/s1600/IMG_4917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyMN72pDVN0wq_1_WcvB0E5XIrwkTNUpNe7MEgpZ8LipBs6fwpQ3bnD2t16n8aLc6Gx1d_gSncFdC2BGKPijw8eQ2ciKv9iXkEauUvyojxokZzjW1SVRcl9sX2NnQYgfZKydwQXP6Kddm/s320/IMG_4917.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In January, I went through a phase of drinking lots of SmirnOff Ice. Then, I stopped but I kept the evidence of my abstinence.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9eo3cJJABiwqJgb6HlUusi9pQj0nJW3fkE6sUi102RlBpj-2_UF6n52YqT2s-B0R7jVjlH0iD7_IF4U7YZ5OrhWhzq15narOpen1Ln_TwED_KrcJ7PEbdJw0P2i5LMLyIAPnZ4h2glzUL/s1600/IMG_4916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9eo3cJJABiwqJgb6HlUusi9pQj0nJW3fkE6sUi102RlBpj-2_UF6n52YqT2s-B0R7jVjlH0iD7_IF4U7YZ5OrhWhzq15narOpen1Ln_TwED_KrcJ7PEbdJw0P2i5LMLyIAPnZ4h2glzUL/s320/IMG_4916.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm addicted to fruits. I love the 1-pound fruit bowls in Whitechapel Road market kiosks. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxLSu_8sMyCbqcyjQyoO0lMrdKjpjHfIouyxsB3asm-SDfpYXwB9v7FmqSUJ1-1XGpzOXQBXy9d3yGnsAcxm3aS1RwDAQ_0FxGfFX8Pc24B2GRObNqrO8kFdl1tmqsngKez1ZrsybDFI9n/s1600/IMG_4918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxLSu_8sMyCbqcyjQyoO0lMrdKjpjHfIouyxsB3asm-SDfpYXwB9v7FmqSUJ1-1XGpzOXQBXy9d3yGnsAcxm3aS1RwDAQ_0FxGfFX8Pc24B2GRObNqrO8kFdl1tmqsngKez1ZrsybDFI9n/s320/IMG_4918.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The books that I planned to study during my semester abroad. I'm yet to turn a page of any :(<br />French dictionary. Random book by Daniel Schacter. Complimentary Cosmo Sex Guide (I didn't buy it, it came with the mag), GRE workbooks.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span lang="EN-GB"><br />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 <strike>pets</strike> 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. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">While I was running earlier, I didn’t want my 34 GGs flying from Mexico to Kazakhstan. <span style="font-size:85%;">(ps: Bravissimo claims my babies are 34GGs. Before this year, I thought I was a 36DDD. So much for measuring boobs mehn)</span>. 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. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">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. </span><br /><br /><span lang="EN-GB">*insert imaginary awkward ending to the post here*</span><br /><span lang="EN-GB"> </span><br /><span lang="EN-GB">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. </span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br /><span lang="EN-GB">Linguistic discovery of the week: Most America-bred folks don't know what a 'lorry' is. </span><br /><span lang="EN-GB"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Je t'embrasse</span><br /></span><br /><span lang="EN-GB">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 :)</span><br /><span lang="EN-GB">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.</span><br /><span lang="EN-GB">PPPS: I'm putting the main body of this post from my drafts. It was written a week ago. </span><br /><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-10161696164177426042011-03-23T16:00:00.006-04:002011-04-30T02:18:23.256-04:00Short Picture post - IFSA-Butler Weekend in Wales<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW5OeWAu5crrjtQILk6SX7Lv9jZAy9H8M7xFXFIhjsawjzd0cPBI2BuSrtlX3j83w695sMagIMpHtDK_MKcZUYuTmXrkjehnC3vecPuih_JhaauRkHvaGRsrk-b15mDY0dsiAUdY5UzPC0/s1600/IMG_4692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW5OeWAu5crrjtQILk6SX7Lv9jZAy9H8M7xFXFIhjsawjzd0cPBI2BuSrtlX3j83w695sMagIMpHtDK_MKcZUYuTmXrkjehnC3vecPuih_JhaauRkHvaGRsrk-b15mDY0dsiAUdY5UzPC0/s400/IMG_4692.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random hostel in Wales</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Earlier this month, my study-abroad (IFSA-Butler) program planned a trip to Wales. It was fun and a nice opportunity to leave the London bubble. I did not realise how much I was no longer used to road trips, like the 10-hour trips from Abuja to Lagos back in the day. It took about 6 hours to get to Wales from London. Boy! The fifth hour on the coach was tough - I got road/bus sick. There were two accommodation options, the hotel and a hostel for over-flow. When we got there, I was placed in the hostel but my smart-ass found a friend's room in a hotel with an extra bed. So I took this picture before leaving the hostel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08rYx7c2cPJInGFzp43rCc2ZLp7nyVQMlCAzbzEHmV3xg-fseu-tFqXb8L73btY1X0HbJH5U0daVqSeJl4_Ob8bv4kpCYyThhX0NmpF2c-ZhGclfxPkTeAkS-nxcrVf2VZf143tNpacCC/s1600/IMG_4695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08rYx7c2cPJInGFzp43rCc2ZLp7nyVQMlCAzbzEHmV3xg-fseu-tFqXb8L73btY1X0HbJH5U0daVqSeJl4_Ob8bv4kpCYyThhX0NmpF2c-ZhGclfxPkTeAkS-nxcrVf2VZf143tNpacCC/s400/IMG_4695.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That Friday night, we had a pub - quiz. My team didn't win but yeah it was fun.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xccLsY58Bn7eBrVUHUisOhJQeL2u0BK41zE9W8vxhB0seh4lNxw_oK9wG0n1snP0zXv-xeb_prILm3rI3n_bXCWvWCKxjdhOuKZCGROYkbwvepLBvuq3zi-jFwxlwqE2v5i_-LPadIG2/s1600/IMG_4708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xccLsY58Bn7eBrVUHUisOhJQeL2u0BK41zE9W8vxhB0seh4lNxw_oK9wG0n1snP0zXv-xeb_prILm3rI3n_bXCWvWCKxjdhOuKZCGROYkbwvepLBvuq3zi-jFwxlwqE2v5i_-LPadIG2/s400/IMG_4708.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saturday night - party in the hotel basement. Too much techno :(, great company though:)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Zodz9RoWTLuF2qQ6Y3kTXDfUlXrpJL3IsTFGhrYGcOnd9hjxm-dbrJfLM2tt0tWJzW0u5d1Sw_ptf46JEII_bxIVg9b2qQiUGlcQEeLd3DzhqX6nwWoujAvJuuRJZepfTogsWfsMJF9q/s1600/IMG_4699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Zodz9RoWTLuF2qQ6Y3kTXDfUlXrpJL3IsTFGhrYGcOnd9hjxm-dbrJfLM2tt0tWJzW0u5d1Sw_ptf46JEII_bxIVg9b2qQiUGlcQEeLd3DzhqX6nwWoujAvJuuRJZepfTogsWfsMJF9q/s400/IMG_4699.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go-Karting<br />
Saturday daytime, we did some activities. I went abseiling, that's mountain downward-climbing and Go-Karting. Go-Karting was a competition but guess who came 15th out of 15 participants. I also did abseiling.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> I went for only one round. That activity was lowkey scary despite the harness, helmet and guard ropes</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QEeF7N90Lf1c2ISZnlNIxvLCIzBsJjkmkMt72RSEPFHbdIzWdKF3NaMWytW2tvaH65ZKxEj1rMKOorXsGK9nDW4z62xzktoWwxUGdoqcwl1t6DpEo1tL-_GGrfnOmdzelGGkvl1Xa2sL/s1600/IMG_4719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QEeF7N90Lf1c2ISZnlNIxvLCIzBsJjkmkMt72RSEPFHbdIzWdKF3NaMWytW2tvaH65ZKxEj1rMKOorXsGK9nDW4z62xzktoWwxUGdoqcwl1t6DpEo1tL-_GGrfnOmdzelGGkvl1Xa2sL/s400/IMG_4719.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Llandudno beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On Sunday, we headed back to London. But we stopped at this Welsh town called Llandudno. I don't even know how to pronounce that name. They had a nice man-made beach. So pretty</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKUBse8sE-siclLaEhN1vVR4sLGfS-qVgGUsSiSFA16PFUoQ-TgLUWFZAswSsklQHPuulDjaXab-Ddg1MZxfZ_89XvSZBJPUzK_4NloijRH7mDZAnw74RplTPrh3TsV7SzJbwF9Bo7_-nB/s1600/IMG_4718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKUBse8sE-siclLaEhN1vVR4sLGfS-qVgGUsSiSFA16PFUoQ-TgLUWFZAswSsklQHPuulDjaXab-Ddg1MZxfZ_89XvSZBJPUzK_4NloijRH7mDZAnw74RplTPrh3TsV7SzJbwF9Bo7_-nB/s400/IMG_4718.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pebbles on the beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>So yeah, that was me leaving London. I plan to go to Brighton sometime, when it is warmer. I heard that it's a beach town and it is about an hour away from London. No bueno.</div><div><br />
</div><div><i>Je t'embrasse</i></div><div><br />
PS: I'm currently getting waist length braids. Oh man, my bum hurts but the hairdresser is nice. She keeps the immigration/student-hustle/relationship stories coming LOL</div><div><br />
</div><div>Have a nice week.</div></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-41996098183223481752011-03-20T00:02:00.013-04:002011-03-20T00:42:05.849-04:00Financial Bottleneck - Living in tight situations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've blogged about how much fun studying abroad in London has been but you win some, lose some and face some challenges.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In a previous post, I mentioned that the living costs in England is significantly higher than in the States. The USD is not equal to the GBP, for real. For the past 10 days, I've not had access to cash because my American debit card got stuck in Barclays (British bank ) ATM. Unfortunately, I can't make withdrawals with my American credit card because it does not have the chip, that they always ask for in the UK. Even in places like some restaurants, you cannot foot your bill with an American bank card if it does not have the infamous chip. So, you can imagine the financial crevice that I've been in, for the past 10 days. I've had to top up my oyster(travel) card, my phone, and buy groceries online with my credit card. I borrowed 100 pounds from a friend but had to spend 70 pounds out of it to fix my phone. That left me with 30 pounds, in addition to some 50 pounds that I had. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was annoyed to be informed that Barclays bank could not give me my debit card back, even if they get it out of the ATM, because it is not a Barclays card. I called my American bank to issue another one but it is not here yet. It has been 10 days and Yinkuslolo has been surviving on 80 pounds cash. That should be a lot of money, right? But this is London, money goes faster than the speed of light. I've tried to be prudent but I end up buying coconut bread, cafeteria breakfast, Arizona Iced tea etc. As of Friday, I had 10 pounds left in my wallet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Important note - I did not inform my mother about my situation and I have no reliable relatives in London to help me out. Also, I'm not a kid. Thus, I figured that I should be able to handle this by myself. My american bank told me that my new debit card will be here on Friday. Alas, my mail box is devoid of this damn card, up til now . On Friday evening, I finally decided to let my mother know about my problem. Like the very caring person that she is, she wired some money to me via Western Union, within an hour. After visiting thirteen Western Union cash points in East and Central London, I found one that is actually in operation in Leicester Square. I will go there later today, because I didn't have sufficient ID when I went yesterday. To make matters worse, the TFL (Transport for London) disabled my Oyster cards because of God knows what. That's a long story on its own. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Why did it take me a whole week to tell my mother about this money matter? I have always been financially self-sufficient. Don't give me that 'yeah right!' look. I do not know how to ask my mother for 'pocket money' and I was not brought up with any regular allowance. So, I feel very awkward asking my mother for money. Fortunately, she sends me money irregularly and in very random amounts, based on her own instinct, and I'm not complaining. Back at my home university, I had two well-paying part-time jobs, alongside my regular 18-credit courseload, and I always go after deals / student discounts. So, I've been living off my savings, for the most part, in London. I'm not against depending on Central Bank of Mummy and Daddy but I respect adults, who work for their own money.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This past week has made me to think about my desirable financial position for the future. I want to be comfortable enough and not depend on a spouse or inherited returns to cater for myself and dependents. I know this means a lot of work but that's why I'm putting my best into this rigorous education now. This is not to say that a good education assures financial security but it goes a long way with getting there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What does 'comfortable' in future mean to me? This may sound cheesy. I want to be comfortable enough to own (or co-own with my spouse) a family house, send my children/dependants to very good schools and afford to take annual vacations abroad. Hopefully, I will not have to take any loans in the future, except it is for some grand investment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Enough with my money talk, the two pictures below have been subjects of twitter jokes and spin offs for TTs (trending topics) on Twitter. Follow me on twitter, @yinkuslolo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Je t'embarasse</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://c0013683.cdn1.cloudfiles.rackspacecloud.com/x2_508ecd7" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://c0013683.cdn1.cloudfiles.rackspacecloud.com/x2_508ecd7" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This one is just funny. What about Real Housewives of Ebute-Metta and Keeping up with the Igbinedions?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://korrectnation.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/blackberry-babes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://korrectnation.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/blackberry-babes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This movie is actually out. You have to see the parts 1 and 2 on youtube. Too hilarious. Babes are stealing Blackberries and leaving a matrimonial home because the husband didn't buy a BB for the wife I just want to believe that it's a satire. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On that note, shout to the best mother in the world, I love her so much and I know she does not how much I do. I will not be who I am and will be, without her. I hope my debit card comes in the mail, soon. </div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-55389056657172768602011-03-13T22:41:00.005-04:002011-03-30T01:08:35.244-04:00Team Insomnia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy4XkIC2BJcgjc8BJZeI_2DFJzQdhDTtYOEFvXddlmYlOPXuAxFZCKL1x7-nQerrusjV69Qf2f-vrvd6geM0PZnfQvDXE83wNmxJ_YmxUN0ggNFIW8d8AKajQkxQdcjpBC1o7a0dfGPZw/s1600/japanpray.jpg"><br /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy4XkIC2BJcgjc8BJZeI_2DFJzQdhDTtYOEFvXddlmYlOPXuAxFZCKL1x7-nQerrusjV69Qf2f-vrvd6geM0PZnfQvDXE83wNmxJ_YmxUN0ggNFIW8d8AKajQkxQdcjpBC1o7a0dfGPZw/s1600/japanpray.jpg"></a></span>Tonight, I'm wandering idly through the streets of the interwebz. I checked my grades, mediocre for my standard :(. Fortunately, coursework counts for less than 25% in the UK as opposed to the regular 60% in the States. So, I can still breathe comfortably. I tried writing my French essay, talk about linguistic writers' block :(. It is 2:45am and I have a 9am class (3 classes on Monday #riseandgrind). A good student should be in bed but Yinkuslolo is the captain of the night owls' team<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br />This sunday, I spent six hours at a Nigerian-British friend's RCCG church in Thornton Heath, worship service, hanging out, planning meeting and clearing up. Too many laughs, it was nice and they were all Nigerians. I haven't been to an all-black church outside Nigeria before :) The youth leader emphasized on 100 year-old Abraham's ability to have sex with Sarah at that age, without Viagra. I don't know how Romans chap 4 led to that LOL.<br /><br />This weekend was nice but Michelle and I took the big L (stands for loss in American lingo, I guess) twice though. I also pissed her off, so I'm going to apologize to her via skype in a minute, though she lives three floors below me. I need to curb this my blunt tongue a bit. She doesn't read this blog anyway.<br /><br />I will blog about my intended topics, from my last post, later.<br /><br />PS: Night buses in London are so hilarious. The tube stops running at 1am. So, if you do not have a car and cannot take a cab, you're stuck with the bus. You can encounter all sorts of people on the bus, from flamboyant gays, drunk folks, quarelling Russians, sleepy Spaniards, to random hikers. Michelle and I always have a fun time on the Bus 25 that runs from Oxford Circus to East London.<br /><br />Je t'embrasse.<br />Pray for Japan. Donate to charities. They need your help, no matter how little.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy4XkIC2BJcgjc8BJZeI_2DFJzQdhDTtYOEFvXddlmYlOPXuAxFZCKL1x7-nQerrusjV69Qf2f-vrvd6geM0PZnfQvDXE83wNmxJ_YmxUN0ggNFIW8d8AKajQkxQdcjpBC1o7a0dfGPZw/s1600/japanpray.jpg"><br /><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 612px; height: 612px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy4XkIC2BJcgjc8BJZeI_2DFJzQdhDTtYOEFvXddlmYlOPXuAxFZCKL1x7-nQerrusjV69Qf2f-vrvd6geM0PZnfQvDXE83wNmxJ_YmxUN0ggNFIW8d8AKajQkxQdcjpBC1o7a0dfGPZw/s1600/japanpray.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-29434261909062503792011-03-09T23:38:00.005-05:002011-03-09T23:59:29.850-05:00Affirming my black identity in London?I am proudly Nigerian and I will always be. I am also the queen of procrastination. If I had a penny for the number of times that I have blogged in my head but failed to type a post, I will afford not <1Kgof gummy bears right now. If you don't know what gummy bears are, google 'em. They are the best study snack, next to seedless grapes. yum!<br /><br />If you have not noticed, this blog is turning to a study abroad blog. I want to highlight my experience in London so far, related to me being Nigerian. For every black person I meet in London, I assume that ze is Nigerian until ze proves otherwise. Trust me, you will save your time and your curious spirit some energy, if you go with my formula.<br /><ul><li> At my host university in London, Queen Mary, they are more South Asians than blacks and even whites, I believe. This is probably because QM is located in East London, the domain of South Asians. Whenever I see a dark-skinned person, I become so eager to meet them. Getting closer it turns out to be a dark-skinned Indian and I becomes low-key disappointed. This is not to say that I'm racist but I just like meeting all sorts of Black people, whether it be African-American, Carribean or African. Sadly, the ACS (african-carribean society) is not as active as the Black student unions in the States that I am used. Thus, I have to meet fellow Black students, with an extra effort on my part.<br /></li><li>I usually go to south London aka the hood to get my hair done. Y'all know that black hair is done and cheapest in the hood. But then, you gatta be careful because finding a good hairdresser is as difficult as finding a good husband. Anytime, I go there to get my hair done, they seem to be confused by my 'hybrid' accent until I say my name is Yinka (Yinkuslolo is from Yinka, get it?)<br /></li><li>Most of my study abroad buddies are African Americans (called akatas by Nigerian english) from the States and everytime we go out, we are asked which country we are from. As usual, I give my long story that I'm a Nigerian studying in the USA. My akatas friends have a problem though because they will tell you that they are from chicago/atlanta/*insert.random.city* America but many blacks in London are not buying that. Then, my akata friends will have to the enquirer that their forefathers went to the USA as slaves from Africa. Thus, recent akata generations are mixed with other races and have no idea of their precise African origin. I think this long explanation is due to difference between the Black-British and Black-Americans. This is because the blacks in Britain are more recent immigrants than those in the USA. It is sometimes sad to see my Akata friends have to go through the slavery explanation so many times. Actually, my African American friends often ask what their looks can suggest about their place of origin in Africa. I often joke with them and say oh you look Igbo/Yoruba/Kenyan.<br /></li><li>I must have mentioned in an earlier post I went to the Basketmouth show on Feb 13th, that show was basic. I felt the jokes were mostly recycled. Maybe the theme of the jokes (ie Naija hustlers in Jand) was over-flogged. The show just wasn't working for me. I had a good time though, because I went with a new friend and saw my crazy ass Nigerians.<br /></li><li>Two Saturdays ago, I went to CokoBar, a Nigerian club in East London. I had heard loads about it and it is just 10 mins away from QM. So, I decided to go see what's up there. One word for CokoBar. basic!!! The music was nice, the DJ did a good job in mixing Nigerian music with mainstream western hippop/ R &B but the transitions were kind of wack. Of course, the dressing at CokoBar was at the two extremes, regular Jand dudes in Blazers in the club's heat hian! and some girls with GUCCI clutches (with green and pink stripes instead of green and red). I had fun though because I was with friends and busted all my moves with Michelle, my PIC. Btw, what is it with most Nigerian girls (and some dudes) not dancing at the club? I understand if it is your day off dancing but if you don't dance every time, there is a problem. How will you just be sitting and <i>boning</i> (frowning in Naija slang) in the club? You might as well stay at home or go to a pub.</li></ul><br />I must admit that the title is somewhat misfitted with the content of this post. But yeah, I typing at as many character per min as possible at 4:30am. Pardon the grammatical error. I dislike proof-reading, like I always remind you. My next post will be about my London Fashion Weekend Experience and my trip to Wales.<br /><br />Till then<br /><i>Je t'embarasse</i><br />ff me <a href="http://www.twitter.com/yinkuslolo">@yinkuslolo</a> on twitter<br /><br />PS:<br />Happy Ash Wednesday! <span style="font-size:xx-small;">( I'm Nigerian and we celebrate everything/day even 'Happy Strike!')</span><br />Are you giving up anything for Lent, if so what is it?Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-30612606671069459502011-02-22T21:36:00.004-05:002011-02-23T21:49:17.777-05:00So you think you know Yinkuslolo? Stylish and Versatile Blogger Award<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7iIFUWEFdVe8PGsVJ3bQEI61zwoPLSNdqEU0C380OHDjzZ20PRq3DfqYY1iBxe9shjz0TMehdIn29ZND4CgVIxjKhiIRQ862iXdd3DaxkO6iLJcV728X3P8K72yytWMRNgALrXIDfcX_N/s640/IMG_4418.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" border="0" height="226" width="440" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I went to Camden with @juiceegal, three sundays ago. I'm going back to pierce my ears :)</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><style>@font-face { font-family: "Courier New";}@font-face { font-family: "Times";}@font-face { font-family: "Wingdings";}@font-face { font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }ol { margin-bottom: 0in; }ul { margin-bottom: 0in; }</style> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Hi, I'm finally getting around to blogging. This semester has been no joke. I claim to have a lot of free time in London, but there is also coursework do in little time. I still want suggestions of places in London to visit. By now, you should get from this blog that I like to explore and not stay at home. I don't even have or like watching TVs. But after fter these 5 months, is there anything that will be of interest in London to me here again? We will see. </span></div><br /><div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">So, Taynement gave me the Stylish and Versatile Blogger award eons ago but the Yinkuslolo that I am will acknowledge it in this century.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;"><br />The rules of this award.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post. Thanks to Taynement that tagged me. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">2. Tell us 7 things about yourself. Read below</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">3. Award 15 other bloggers. I tag every blogger that hasn’t done it because I seem to be the last one doing this. </span></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">In no particular order,</span></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Hopeless romantic - I believe in the power of love. It is simple, yet so complicated. I always pray to be loved and love without limits. I gush over loving couples. In reality, I don’t go awww everytime I see couples showing each other love or obsess over Valentine’s day. I just love loving. More importantly, you have to learn to love you for yourself before you can love another healthily.<br /><br /></span></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Only child of single parent – This is unusual for a Nigerian to proclaim openly. I think Naija is one of the few countries left, where there is a stigma for single mothers or children born and raised out of wedlock. This is another blogpost for another day.</span></div></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Love for French – I took french in elementary and high school, with breaks in between. I have taken French classes for 2 years in university. Yet, my French is still at the intermediate/conversational level. I think that I will not be as fluent as I want until I actually reside in a French-speaking environment. These classes are not cutting it and I have a low aptitude for foreign language learning but I am determined. Though, I ditched studying abroad in Paris for London this semester, I am planning a 2-day trip to Paris in March and a 4-day trip to some cities in France in April. I loved Paris so much, when I visited in January 2010 </li></ul><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMBPTvvmAjp8Xwuc5r3GQ2UKnQ4N2LaYvpEBVdONsK-LiEjOVZaZg0PVjB7WgYtVzyS7Tnadtu1ZD-x6SY_s_uGVmeMVFTr5NLnoUspqHLms4re-gw-RvsDdfAV94hB4Q7ZGCWaIQYq0F/s320/100_1168.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" border="0" height="320" width="239" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture of Eiffel Tower that I took in Jan 2011<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div><style>@font-face { font-family: "Courier New";}@font-face { font-family: "Times";}@font-face { font-family: "Wingdings";}@font-face { font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }ol { margin-bottom: 0in; }ul { margin-bottom: 0in; }</style> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><ul style="margin-top: 0in; text-align: left;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Sleeping with panties only – I don’t know if many people do this but whenever it’s not too cold and I have no company, platonic or otherwise, I always sleep with no clothes on. This may be TMI but yeah that’s a fact. I just love the feeling of my duvet and bed sheet against my skin, after a night shower especially.<br /><br /></span></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Seafood = orgasm - Thai duck curry wins. Calamari owns. Nigerian fried snail hits the spot every time. I will leave it at that.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Edit. Thanks to Azuka, duck is not seafood. what was I thinking? Another correction thanks to Myne, Snails are not seafood because they live on land, right? Anyhoo, Calamari is still part of the seafood family.<br /><br /></span></span></span></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Riding - I do not know how to ride at all. Get your dirty mind of there. I do not know how to ride a bicycle because I never had one. As for cars, I have been to driving school s twice but I’ve not driven a car on the road out of the schools yet. The last driving school session I attended was last summer. So, I have probably forgotten all of that and will need to start again. Oh well, one day sha, one day, maybe when I get a car to cruise around.<br /><br /></span></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.1pt; margin-top: 0.1pt;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Friends – I have never had an appointed best friend. No, I am not that kid with no friends. I actually do have close friends from very different parts of the world but I think I move from place to place too often that I cannot nurture a long distance ‘bestie-ship’. In high school, I was the centre of almost everything from academic to extracurricular. I had a wifey (platonic), we were close and competed for the top in many subjects. After HS, we cut off, (no phone). A year later, I moved to a flat directly behind her house and we reconnected. Three months later, she went to a private univ outside Abuja, I moved to Hungary. New beginnings right! Two months later, I went to the US for uni and started all over again. Now I have a crew close to my heart, no labels. I’m currently in London; I meet new people often and I love it. Most of my friendships are seasonal. I love those friends, who can pick up from wherever we left. I despise those, who do not keep in touch, but have the means too. Don’t judge me, the whole BFF craze is cool but it is too much of a responsibility for me to bestow on someone. <br /></span></li></ul><br /><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Below are pictures of a canal and my visit, outside London, to Old Hamptons court palace.<br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoEks4kKgU3Lu4n68wEB9u6aUbhHjRnIeueqZrt8sh000kp9265BIu6QDyY-CEyo-4Z5_LopWaCmm_yOfaRwRLlJvtJB6WJFID21uu0Boau5-jZ-bN39o682CtccwzBHT79cD8kKPR7Nu/s1600/IMG_4459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoEks4kKgU3Lu4n68wEB9u6aUbhHjRnIeueqZrt8sh000kp9265BIu6QDyY-CEyo-4Z5_LopWaCmm_yOfaRwRLlJvtJB6WJFID21uu0Boau5-jZ-bN39o682CtccwzBHT79cD8kKPR7Nu/s320/IMG_4459.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Regents Canal, next to my uni, Queen Mary Univ</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJG0Y2btTOSNK3_qL1B0A4v7vD-lTIa_aOvz2m2LA9AyqyQM8L3-m_NYdM4IAoFWu3FSMAF1rSu7cDrY2tdJL7dHlm8vMnqXUiHWk2wHOVy1oE23Dd6lCs5isi1CJMBo4fbXc-kR2VMTDn/s1600/IMG_4458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJG0Y2btTOSNK3_qL1B0A4v7vD-lTIa_aOvz2m2LA9AyqyQM8L3-m_NYdM4IAoFWu3FSMAF1rSu7cDrY2tdJL7dHlm8vMnqXUiHWk2wHOVy1oE23Dd6lCs5isi1CJMBo4fbXc-kR2VMTDn/s320/IMG_4458.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat on the same canal, next to my residence hall</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqo7Ax0VAGKY4DXj3ulEo3xMieLcZ2Oj3LK7YMupPBKYarOpIZg5TzkN1-I1elj9i4QhUzIpKsj6tCnn8J8hw9HgslZQ-4Gb9rNvdUcPYXruJGF2D4fRmA3rIO3PSVsEHmN0Z7pBbDCFXD/s1600/IMG_4534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqo7Ax0VAGKY4DXj3ulEo3xMieLcZ2Oj3LK7YMupPBKYarOpIZg5TzkN1-I1elj9i4QhUzIpKsj6tCnn8J8hw9HgslZQ-4Gb9rNvdUcPYXruJGF2D4fRmA3rIO3PSVsEHmN0Z7pBbDCFXD/s320/IMG_4534.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Hamptons Court Palace, where generations of royal British families used to live</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2Kql9xBatlRro9oDxbEThK5yvhENhcBKA0MLlUZ8auwxi2sDYAMGxbiDTuU9t7MmiShlwbVJAdvlS9fbZuI9c8cNzoedwgYmWudKm8RdMBuIzfomTfJnlHW3lZ3ssKzk2nQWPDGQ7hvN/s1600/IMG_4530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2Kql9xBatlRro9oDxbEThK5yvhENhcBKA0MLlUZ8auwxi2sDYAMGxbiDTuU9t7MmiShlwbVJAdvlS9fbZuI9c8cNzoedwgYmWudKm8RdMBuIzfomTfJnlHW3lZ3ssKzk2nQWPDGQ7hvN/s320/IMG_4530.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entry map post</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw00CR635QUJOExFnb5-zgcVTRHXJLYfQQcBEMA05BawSbNTHFlvNUfM6CnirMpLUAXvKfdk3PGws6Nxr13DRqRhAX66pe33DXhwRTD1KX_z795vQ5r2xqHHkTsrkrmHO-04gtK-CiSzh4/s1600/IMG_4555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw00CR635QUJOExFnb5-zgcVTRHXJLYfQQcBEMA05BawSbNTHFlvNUfM6CnirMpLUAXvKfdk3PGws6Nxr13DRqRhAX66pe33DXhwRTD1KX_z795vQ5r2xqHHkTsrkrmHO-04gtK-CiSzh4/s320/IMG_4555.JPG" border="0" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Palace garden, so beautiful</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83uQqLp0ATy7Axr411SA40KvbvtztmciqJyaEMhs7IAIaFrMiwCcSNuHqP77TmpR64GR-01rb-w7ei6TM19VtjLNzIaLyLeR1zf2mbdsbMKr19BXcRuQowJzsO3z2Nljs5Y3Ca8DJaGYU/s1600/IMG_4573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83uQqLp0ATy7Axr411SA40KvbvtztmciqJyaEMhs7IAIaFrMiwCcSNuHqP77TmpR64GR-01rb-w7ei6TM19VtjLNzIaLyLeR1zf2mbdsbMKr19BXcRuQowJzsO3z2Nljs5Y3Ca8DJaGYU/s320/IMG_4573.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A four-post bed in the palace. I want something like this in my matrimonial bedroom.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria";}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <br /><div class="MsoNormal">I hope everyone is having a good week. It’s reading week (no classes) for me and Fashion week in London. Guess what I’m doing on Friday? Going to London fashion weekend yay! This is my first catwalk show ever. I will have to wear some of my fashionable pieces with style, take photos and try to imitate those fashion bloggers. I kid, I kid. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Au rêvoir!</div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-26678653291489083672011-02-03T21:15:00.002-05:002011-02-03T21:23:11.881-05:00Tinie Tempah - "Pass Out". My fave British jam.<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/QzvGKas5RsU?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"></iframe> Before this year, I've not been exposed to British songs. But oh boy, they've got some good songs here. But the techno in some kill me. Three weeks ago, my friends and I went to my campus pub, Drapers, and we thought the fire alarm was going off. You will not believe that it was actually the intro of a song. The techno is sometimes unbearable. Besides that, they've got some cool moves here too. One of my new friends here, Chris goes in on all the different types of skanks from Jungle skank to Tribal and Migraine skank, no joke.<br /><br />The video above is my fave British song right now. It's a club banger as well. It has been stuck in my head for a while. Youtube the 'Bubbly bubbly' song too. It's kind of an oldie but the dance is very choreographic.<br /><br />Side note: Wikipedia claims that Tinie Tempah is British Nigerian.<br /><br />PS: I'm going to see Wicked, next Tuesday. It is supposed to be a very good play because everyone I know that has seen it speaks well of it. I plan to see Legally Blonde, Mamma Mia and Les Miserables (plays) before June.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Je t'embarasse</span>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-35611078891591244962011-01-30T22:55:00.000-05:002011-01-30T22:55:29.623-05:00Hi, from LondonDamn, it's already the last day of january, 2011. This year is going by so fast.<br />
I've been in London for three weeks already and I feel like those weeks went by so fast. It has been amazing, I'm really glad that I'm studying abroad. I'm going to comment on a few aspects of my stay here so far.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpREUbxfl1t1RExGLkrmggosPmsvuo8sgbfkUcc0_PSES9dH3JT7hRaspEP08Xoa-M_aOFFxO8PBQJNSCfNPlJfOgnGtGpD0xrPLUjageRLMQ_8qkdhrv3nEUM_Q2s-P5BVOYKbFyYoj-l/s1600/IMG_4215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpREUbxfl1t1RExGLkrmggosPmsvuo8sgbfkUcc0_PSES9dH3JT7hRaspEP08Xoa-M_aOFFxO8PBQJNSCfNPlJfOgnGtGpD0xrPLUjageRLMQ_8qkdhrv3nEUM_Q2s-P5BVOYKbFyYoj-l/s320/IMG_4215.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A typical street sign in Westminster</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2_v6ppLfbJhDDZXeXcXmod51ivts0u5LPh9PfHoS8j9Ao0uGB8UUB1NqAbObN9azYBQr0uN8z98WY5m5zV7nJqsF2Ut4VkTpMqelq8lK1gkZdX6n3MpndpGCfmBlKGBbQ71WCAiWk0DP/s1600/IMG_4246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2_v6ppLfbJhDDZXeXcXmod51ivts0u5LPh9PfHoS8j9Ao0uGB8UUB1NqAbObN9azYBQr0uN8z98WY5m5zV7nJqsF2Ut4VkTpMqelq8lK1gkZdX6n3MpndpGCfmBlKGBbQ71WCAiWk0DP/s320/IMG_4246.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A shot from the cruise that I mentioned</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxMtJwvu307BkMQ5iyDVEut3thrSDcewb87CF8mmYXdRi0zRKGZd4uKKi6LUBXLXceZyMYxmThAwFlyCcI_WzbjXK5BkXhpuXz6fl1iFY2EMPBlci61OrimqAWbCCeblvJuHla6vuuDu9/s1600/IMG_4372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxMtJwvu307BkMQ5iyDVEut3thrSDcewb87CF8mmYXdRi0zRKGZd4uKKi6LUBXLXceZyMYxmThAwFlyCcI_WzbjXK5BkXhpuXz6fl1iFY2EMPBlci61OrimqAWbCCeblvJuHla6vuuDu9/s320/IMG_4372.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I forgot to add, the art on Brick Lane is amazing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIvD8aRovlmAPyXfIqkVB7Yszt_WgCWnkTjdalT-taJlkchQwWh2pmM1WpMlhq-w4QCLFOZ35dpAl9glO9kvhnWKaSwdTFXzYOtpr_urUGVsKku9N9lIGNXDQNWz7V_FGHhFMJQokh4gry/s1600/IMG_4390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIvD8aRovlmAPyXfIqkVB7Yszt_WgCWnkTjdalT-taJlkchQwWh2pmM1WpMlhq-w4QCLFOZ35dpAl9glO9kvhnWKaSwdTFXzYOtpr_urUGVsKku9N9lIGNXDQNWz7V_FGHhFMJQokh4gry/s320/IMG_4390.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of the stalls in the Sunday-up market at Brick Lane</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLq5N1Wu7nsez1tEWeqw6Hf0FJOrm_QCCaYhNXzBEZRrPIpymidUB6rp9J_CiSseUH-BtL1JRNW029jJ25KRjbSsX4W8F5F_PMtS8xW2rt8waNgjpAUrpCbPx9GjTsxKucxJ8xErreJ5br/s1600/IMG00461-20110109-1716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLq5N1Wu7nsez1tEWeqw6Hf0FJOrm_QCCaYhNXzBEZRrPIpymidUB6rp9J_CiSseUH-BtL1JRNW029jJ25KRjbSsX4W8F5F_PMtS8xW2rt8waNgjpAUrpCbPx9GjTsxKucxJ8xErreJ5br/s320/IMG00461-20110109-1716.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinese food blows</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0N9MQekU4auFrCKwqRZULWPt8auxjY2WtClX0Av1zaEH_AGtgJBvHsr311dChJLRsVpnazeXtF6Sare9sbTDZ_gAtQkDv20QM6LcQFlAam4S_yiyFiKhoqy8IdEynJAkmz53ge9hJI1KH/s1600/IMG_4236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0N9MQekU4auFrCKwqRZULWPt8auxjY2WtClX0Av1zaEH_AGtgJBvHsr311dChJLRsVpnazeXtF6Sare9sbTDZ_gAtQkDv20QM6LcQFlAam4S_yiyFiKhoqy8IdEynJAkmz53ge9hJI1KH/s320/IMG_4236.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Ben: Note the tower is called Big Ben but it is actually the Bell in it that should be called Big Ben. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">Shopping: Of course, you can not be in London and not cop a few things. I feel like this is the fashion capital of the world. Yeah, people rock gears in NY but Londoners have style. I already had an extra luggage coming here and I know that I will leave with nothing less than an additional extra luggage. I've tried to curtail on my expenses but it looks like there is some jazz in these stores, from those in Westfield to Oxford Street. I went to Camden market yesterday, that place is huge and I need to go back. Very close to my school is Brick Lane, the Sunday-Up market there is very nice too and I've been there twice. I think the beauty of these markets is the very diverse vintage wears and exotic food stalls. But my dear, if you coming to shop in London, better come with plenty $$$$. Since, I'm not the President's daughter, I'm always converting the prices from pounds to dollars like everytime. Things are so expensive here because what is 5 dollars in the States is also 5 pounds in the UK. Note: 1 pound = 1.6 dollars.<br />
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Academics: This is the main reason why I'm in London right? Queen Mary University of London is kinda weird to me. Well, the entire British educational system at the Uni level has been more of a relief. I have 2 in class hours per course in week and no tests or weekly assignments. This equals lots of free time for me. I'm looking for a job or volunteering position because I'm used to having two part-time jobs in the States. I have no classes on Tues, Wed and Fri. yipee! Because I'm not used to independent study, I've not been able to keep up with the readings but I need to soonest. On another note, the state of the extracurricular life in the UK is close to dead. The only thing they do really is go to the student union pub, Drapers.<br />
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New relationships: I've made a good number of new friends. My closest are fellow American students studying abroad at Queen Mary. We've gone shopping, to the movies, clubbing and typical social stuff. I'm really trying to meet British students and not to stay in my comfort zone with fellow American students. The few that I've met so far are chill peeps. I've met some men, *cough*, they've been mostly Nigerian. I'm yet to be impressed, though. I've met up with two twitter friends, one (@juiceegal) is originally from blogger. There are both interesting and nice ladies. I do believe that my blogger persona is different from my twitter one and also from the one in real life.. <br />
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Living without a meal plan: I live on campus and this rarely happens in London because most Unis in this city do not have a campus. Unlike my campus in the States, this one does not have a meal plan and that means I have to cook for myself. It should be cheaper right but I think the honeymoon phase of cooking is almost over. I'm yet to get very Nigerian food stuff. So, I've just been making stew chicken/fish, rice and plantains.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_BJblQtuSRAXn-keOzS0koltMNsXQHA5SbhE-z8MQAB77bVwUh5Sz961Pkg_JA2aKxoD4Ot1YtWvnPlUPZsivWzjXm87VpsbUx4TdnMCm3uoyt4U8BwiQGNfkbYoQie30tzASN4-7ZS4/s1600/IMG_4381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_BJblQtuSRAXn-keOzS0koltMNsXQHA5SbhE-z8MQAB77bVwUh5Sz961Pkg_JA2aKxoD4Ot1YtWvnPlUPZsivWzjXm87VpsbUx4TdnMCm3uoyt4U8BwiQGNfkbYoQie30tzASN4-7ZS4/s320/IMG_4381.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who knew vegetarian African food can be commercialized?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Night life: I've been having a very good time. One of my friends here, Michelle (her name from 12am to 5am hahaha), is my PIC. We've been out to on a cruise over River Thames and a few places in WestEnd, Leicester precisely. I'm def down to go to more places. The drinking culture is a major aspect of British social life. For example, my uni students dash into the school's bar in between lectures. Sadly, I'm not a beer/pub-going person. So, I will just stick to sipping my fruity cocktails and wine in lounges and clubs. <br />
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Summer plans: This has been a major concern for me and I'm yet to take concrete steps on it. I'm looking for an internship-like opportunity in the public health sector. I'm open to any branch but I will prefer sexual, social or environmental public health. My mum wants me to stay in the UK but I lowkey want to go to Naija. So, I'm considering both places. Sadly, I've not found anywhere yet and I need to find at least 6 places within the next two weeks to apply to. God dey, please if you know anything or have connects let me know.<br />
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I can go on and on about my stay here so far but I'll keep 'em coming in subsequent posts.<br />
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Pardon typos, I dislike editing my posts. Just for you to know, if you haven't noticed <br />
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Much love.Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-4020835787290711412011-01-02T04:47:00.000-05:002011-01-02T04:47:42.575-05:002010 recap. Happy New year!<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">So it’s 2011 and I want to do a 2010 recap for some aspects of my life that had some change. I’ve been tied up with household chores. So, I couldn’t write this up before 2010 ended. I hope y’all are having a beautiful 2011 so far. I am! I’m just really excited about going to London on Monday (Jan 3<sup>rd</sup>), to start my semester abroad. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going with an open mind, crossed fingers, and two boxes.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So here we go with the 2010 recap </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Religion</div><div class="MsoNormal">I still believe in one God. I finally decided that it might be ok for some people do not believe in God. The most important thing is for them to do good, show love and not harm another person. I wish I spent more time with God in 2010. I hope to be better in 2011. Side note: that’s why I pray for a steadfast Christian husband because I need someone to ginger my religious spirit and not someone as easily distracted as I am. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">[Non-Platonic] Relationships</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is an aspect that I rarely blog about. In 2010, love was a tricky thing. I easily fell in like but love took time. I narrowed down my characteristics of a partner. I learnt that you must not put a label on love and go with the flow. Also, everyone around you may seem lovey-dovey in his or her relationship but that r/ship may be going thru chronic emotional turmoil. My love is not blind; it wears glasses and contacts #igatjokes but seriously. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Travelling</div><div class="MsoNormal">I went to Budapest, Rome, Vatican City, Milan, Paris, London, Abuja, Madrid and Los Angeles, Atlanta, DMV, and of course North-East Tri-state in the USA. It was a crazy year. I’ve no regrets and I hope to travel more in 2011. Paris, France remains my favorite place. I spent only 5 days there but there was this homely NYC feel to her. The everyday style of Parisians was amazing too. French folks can cook, umm let me no get into the roadside crêpes. If I am to choose only one thing to do in France, it will be eating some crêpes. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Friendships</div><div class="MsoNormal">I developed a college friend circle tighter than a cheerio in 2010. We went to parties, had all-nighters in the library, talked about college guys, shopped and went thru so much stuff together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My college friends may not know this but I love ‘em to bits. All of them are African-Americans but that’s the only common thing about ‘em; people with different interests – a poet, a romance linguist, an archaeologist... They can kill for my curry chicken too :D.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>i’m def gon miss them ,when I’m away in London, this semester. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Finances:</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am not a full-time worker yet but 2010 is the year that I made the most money and spent the most. #dontknockmyhustle. Most of my money went on travels followed by my wardrobe. I curbed my wardrobe spending in the fall/winter though but I still have more clothing than I need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve to watch it in 2011 even though I know going to London will not help matters. I London is expensive and I don’t have a job there. But I can’t just be looking at Topshop like a lukuluku nah. So, I will be out for student discounts and will actually have a limited budget to spend with. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In sum, 2010 topped my previous years and 2011 will have to go far to beat 2010. But hey, cheers to better happenings in 2011. I believe it shouldn’t take one a whole year for one to realize that (s)he ought to change he(r) attitude. Thus, I have no New Year resolutions but I’m starting this year with more positivity.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Some of the topics in this post have been discussed on my twitter actually, so ff me @yinkuslolo on twitter and my tumblr at yinkuslolo.tumblr.com</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This blog is about 18 months old now and I currently have 105 followers; I’m joyful. To those, who passively read my blog, thanks for doing so. To those who comment, your feedback is very much appreciated. I will try to get back to your comments more promptly this year.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Have a good 2011! Don’t get caught up in making resolutions, keep it moving, time waits for no one.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Feel free to leave your blog links and twitter IDs for me to check out. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Je t’embarasse<o:p></o:p></i></div><!--EndFragment-->Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3143623184116850200.post-53274986082573709352010-12-10T23:01:00.003-05:002010-12-10T23:01:00.678-05:00How To Become A Star Style Blogger (spoof from refinery29.com)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.refinery29.com/img/1a-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.refinery29.com/img/1a-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.refinery29.com/img/2-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.refinery29.com/img/2-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.refinery29.com/img/3-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.refinery29.com/img/3-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.refinery29.com/img/4-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.refinery29.com/img/4-r29-how-to-become-a-star-style-blogger.jpg" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> image credit to refinery29.com</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is actually true, from my observation of fashion blogs' metamorphoses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One of the best photo-illustrated spoofs that I have seen in a while. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Yinkuslolohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00178459322033243252noreply@blogger.com6