Happy Valentine's Day!

Unfortunately I didn't get to wear any red today to celebrate, but my gums DID bleed during my routine cleaning at the dentist today. Hope that counts. Looks like I'll need surgery to remove a wisdom tooth soon, but that's another blog.

Getting back to the point!

I'd like to point out that this is the first V-day on which I actually have a a valentine and I'm like, totally stoked!

In keeping with today's lovey-dovey theme, I'm hereby dedicating this blog to Private Ryan. It's about time he got one.

This guy has definatly made a change in me. I used to be so anti-mushiness, and now I can cuddle with the best of 'em.
I first noticed I was different when I could look at a hugging couple without rolling my eyes.

If I'm around my friends and he calls me, I have to lower my voice because my immediate use of a soft, affectionate tone causes loud and profuse teasing.

Dude has me trippin'. I'm so glad we're together.

Well, I was SUPPOSED to be sporting rich red streaks in my hair by now but alas, my plans at re-vamping my image this weekend fell through.

I dunno, something about the salon just didn't sit right with me.
Maybe it was the odd chemical smell. I know hair salons usually smell like relaxer and shampoo, but this odor smelled harsh...as if they were putting acid in the conditioner.

Maybe it was how the stylist seemed to be ignoring what I wanted (just the frikkin' red streaks, dammit) and going on about what SHE thought would be better (dying my whole head some version of brown with BLONDE streaks).

Maybe it was how I sat in the waiting area for an hour while people who were on time for THEIR appointments (yeah, I was half an hour late for mine) waltzed on in past me, to be prepped at the shampoo stations.

Whatever it was, I decided to hell with that and left the salon. Damn. And just when I had managed to put aside my mistrust of other people with my hair too.

So now my hair is still regular ol' bland dark brown, complete with split ends and all. I'm SO disappointed.

The Private has offered to put the streaks in for me (Did I say offered? I meant insisted!) , but since he has no previous experience in haircare besides washing and conditioning (haha) his own close-shaved head, I have respectfully declined.

Last night Private Ryan and I went out to lime on the south coast. There's another thing I like about him: we can party together!
So there we are grooving on the dancefloor, and in walks a blast from my past...Batman.

I still chat with him occasionally online and it turns out he's back in the island indefinately. When I spotted him, I WAS a little surprised to see him, but something was different: my heart didn't skip a beat this time. My breath didn't catch in my throat and I didn't get fidgety and smiley either.

I passed him on my way to the bar, and tried to engage him in a little small talk for old time's sake (Ha! WHAT old times?)...y'know, to see how he's doing and all that. Once again, it was like talking to a brick wall. Or maybe a piece of broccolli.
I smiled to myself. How could I have wasted so much energy on him? He's nothing compared to The Private , who always seems to know just what to say to me.

These thoughts ran through my head as I stood gazing up at my sweetie.

"What, I have a booger or suh'in?" he asked self-conciously.

"No hun, " I replied, still feeling kinda mushy, "you have something of mine that's much bigger, redder and in my chest region".

"Amm..your boob?"

He's not very good at riddles, but he's still the one that I want.

What's up with this new breed of "super-potholes" that seems to be emerging around the island? Well, in Christ Church anyway. I don't remember them being quite so....abyss-like in the past.
I'm seriously considering carrying emergency supplies in the car in case I happen to drive into one by accident, and the emergency rescue team can't get to me quickly.

C.O.T.

It kinda irks me when someone frequently asks me "What are you thinking?". One's thoughts are the first and last things, in this world, that one has to claim as their own...as private. Why should one have to share every notion and idea that comes across one's mind? Why, it's an invasion of privacy almost!

Boy...it's been a while and I'm STILL not sure if I have anything worthwhile to say.

My partner and I are working on our pieces for the upcoming Dance Extravaganza: he wants to do a showpiece that's strictly chachacha, and I wanna do a piece demonstrating the verstility and adaptability of ballroom (i.e. with hip hop or pop)
We haven't even started to put the routines together and the show is less than a month away. I woke up this morning feeling stressed and slightly panicked and I'm sure the Extravaganza is the reason.


C.O.T.

Why, oh WHY won't Guthy-Renker update it's website to enable NON-US citizens to order products via credit card???

All I want is the Sheer Cover foundation package! Comes with 2 shades of foundation (to mix), finishing powder, dual tone concealer, facial cleanser, sunscreen moisturizer, natural bristles application brush and travel brush, AND demo cd, ALL for the unbelievable price of US$29.95!

I don't usually fall for infomercials, but I gotta admit, they got me on this one! The testimonials! The demonstrations! This stuff looks like the bomb.

And I can't even get any! Schuupes.

I can still make calls on it, but the LCD on my precious Samsung A800 is no more, and I'm feeling the pressure to get a new phone. But there's nothing that calls out to me from the display cases of either C&W or Digicel.

I'm not hard to please, all I want is a flip-phone in the range of $150 with an external LCD, that can fit into the clip-on phone case my Dad got me for Christmas. Is that too much to ask??? Apparently so, because there AREN't any in stock!

There WAS the Konka C296, but when it was in stock, my phone was working perfectly! And now...they're all gone. This blog can't possibly express the profound disappintment I feel in my heart when I think about it.
I can't get the Konka out of my head. It fits my every need. PLUS it has a built in menstruation chart, a feature unheard of in your average cell phone. It blows my mind.
It was made for me, and I want it.

If I can't get the phone I want...well...I won't get a phone at all.

Well...at least not until this phone gives out completely.

The new season of Dancing With The Stars started last week Thursday, and one of the "Stars" is none other than rapper/entrepeneur Master P! When I heard this, my first thought was "Are they serious?", and after watching him and his behaviour last night, I can see that my initial doubt was well-founded.

As much ice as he rocks and as many dubs as he rolls on, the man is still an uncouth, ghetto thug.
He says he's doing the show "to represent for all the rappers out there." but he's not doing ANYTHING! The man won't even TRY to dance, he's just clomping around like a blind cow!
The judges reprimanded him for wearing basketball shoes for his 1st performance, and all he can say is that he "ain't changin' who he is fa nobody!"
Of all the ignorance! Why did he even ENTER it if he won't make an effort??

His poor partner Ashley Del Grosso, is trying so hard to remain polite and open, and even went and GOT him a pair of proper dance shoes. The things were stylin'. Diddy or Jay-z woulda worn 'em with pride. When she presented them to him, his response was to drop them on the floor and kick them away with disdain, growling "Naw, naw." the whole time!
Did he think that was funny?? It wasn't, it was appalling!

And to think he probably has NO idea that he's showing himself on international television as an uncivilised, ungracious,inflexible barbarian!
He even refused to take off his cap, but instead turned it backwards.

He didn't "represent"...in fact he has fueled the negative stereotype of rappers that I'm sure most of the organizers and viewers hold.

He disgusts me.

Okay, I'm back and it feels SO good to be home!

First things first: my partner and I didn't manage to place in our competition, but that's NOT because we didn't dance our butts off! I'm actually VERY happy with our performance...it's just that apparently SOMEBODY insisted that we enter the category above the one for which we were better suited!
As a team however, Barbados DEFINATELY made it's presence felt, since all the other couples placed in their categories.
As crushed as I was that we didn't bring home a trophy, I can't let it get me down.

Gotta get back out there, cuz I KNOW I can do this thing. It's a new year, and we gotta make some changes.

Slight C.O.T.

The cold definately wasn't as bad as all the horror stories I'd been hearing...either that, or I'm a helluvva lot tougher than I thought!!
What was REALLY horrible was the bathing part of it. Before I go on, I just want to make it clear that I DID bathe everyday...but it certainly wasn't something I looked forward to while over there.

Why don't these people have a mixer tap??? It's not rocket science!! Normal human beings cannot bathe in water that is either freezing cold or scalding hot, so why are those the only options???
Usually I don't mind bathing out of a basin very much, but doing so in a chilly bathtub with no shower curtain is downright stressful!!

And what's up with the room heater? It only heats within a 1ft radius of itself, so generally speaking I found it virtually useless at heating the room. It DID heat my pajamas pretty well however. Nothing like a toasty bum as you drift off to sleep.


More comments on my Blackpool Experience to come....

Christmas came and went, and somehow everyone in our household was so busy that not ONE string of lights was hung! It's kind of sad that Christmas doesn't evoke the same emotion in me as it has in years past...but, even MORE sad: I don't really have the time to analyse this. It's on to the New Year!

Good grief, I don't even have time to have my annual "Oh-no-the year's-over-ALREADY???" panic attack.
Right now, all I'm thinking about is this trip to Blackpool. The adventure begins at 5pm on January 1st when we have to check in at Grantley Adams International.

I have a recurring dream that I'm rushing to catch a flight and I forget something essential. I always wake from it feeling anxious and I have no idea why this bothers me so much.

Everyone's been telling me absolute horror stories about how bad the weather is up there right now, and how much my ass is going to resemble an icicle at various points on the trip. So far I've been the most vocal in the group about my apprehension towards the drastic temperature change and they all make fun of me, but I've made up my mind that once we're there, no-one's gonna hear a peep outa me!

That's right, I'm gonna be SuperWoman up there.
I'm gonna handle it better than ANY of 'em!
I'm gonna wear that ridiculous roll-down stocking hat like it ain' nuttin'.
I'm gonna layer 'til I look like a fleece-covered whale and I'll smile through it.
I'll try SO hard not to earn the title of Ms. Negative Vibes on this trip and to keep the complaints to a minimum!

All I ask is that the Lord give me the strength to endure (and maybe even enjoy) the company of a couple of my travel companions in particular with whom I'd rather not spend 7 minutes, much less 7 days.

Let the positivity begin......NOW!!

Here's to goin' up there and showin' those Brits how we do things here in Buhbaduss!!!

I juuuuuust came back from the Blood Collection Centre at Q.E.H.

That's right, I gave blood for the first time and I'm feeling mighty proud of myself.

I accompanied the Private on his good deed mission for the father of a co-worker.
For a military man, he's kind of a big wuss when it comes to needles, and the nurses all laughed at him when he kept jerking his hand away at the last second before they could stick him. They laughed, but that boy impressed me more than I can say...he was scared as hell, but he went through with it anyway. And for a total stranger. He's the bomb.

I can let my brave facade slip away now that I'm back in my nice safe office but in the cold waiting room of the Collection Centre, I couldn't stop fidgeting and swallowing hard. I couldn't let on though; I HAD to show the Private how a REAL soldier gives blood! I was calm and cool. The only thing that might have given away my true feelings was that I couldn't stop myself from asking "Wait...you guys don't REALLY need O negative...do you????" I'm not sure if I fooled 'em.

It really didn't hurt as much as I imagined it would, even though the needle is as wide as pencil lead. The initial jab in the thumb to test for anaemia definately hurt more.

It's Christmas everybody...give the gift of life!

I know just how it feels to be the one who watches while someone else hooks up with all your love interests, so even though he really works my nerves sometimes, I can't help but feel bad for him. Every single time...and by the same person.
I mean, it really isn't his own fault that he has NO "game" whatsoever. In fact, sometimes one might get the impression he was raised in a barn.
And I don't even know if I could help him...he'd never take my advice.

Oh, but just in case he ever DOES, I'll have my fabulous
"Abominable Snowman Makeover Strategy" ready!

1.) Get him to eat right and pump some iron. Man-breasts aren't a turn-on.
2.) Mani/pedicure those nails. The first thing I think when I see a dude with long nails is "He obviously doesn't have a girlfriend!" *wicked giggle*
3.) Show him the benefits of an iron. Wrinkles don't make one macho, and crisp shirts don't make one sissy.
4.) Convince him that it IS necessary to wear a clean shirt every time.
5.) Enroll him in an etiquette class. Yes, some things can only be accomplished by professionals.
6.) Help him understand that ladies like to hear compliments.
7.) Pry him away from his mother's side. After all, how can one get one's mack on with mummy looking over one's shoulder?


Ah yes, he'd be fierce!

Performed at the Governor General's Awards Ceremony on Independence Day.
I must be living under a rock because I didn't even realise what an honour it was to be selected, until I discovered that same evening, that there were only 6 acts picked from the entire NIFCA presentation! Wow, gotta say, I was dumbstruck for a minute when I finally caught on.

C.O.T.

* How does one know when one is having a nervous breakdown? Does it happen gradually, or is it a situation like when there's that one straw that breaks the camel's back? Hmmm.

C.O.T.

I don't know why I noticed this, but this morning not a single car driving directly in front of me, turned to the left...if they left the main road, they all turned to the right. Coincidence....or something far more mysterious?
Strange things are afoot.

C.O.T.

Speaking of a foot, come on out a shake yours at a fund-raising latin party goin' down THIS Friday night (9th Dec.) at the Foundation school Hall. Starts at 9pm and it's ONLY $10!

Proceeds go towards helping my partner & me, and three other couples (Barbados Ballroom Travelling Team), get to the shivery dancefloors of Blackpool, England, to rep for B'dos in the Champions of Tomorrow 2006 competition.

Come on out and support! Donations always welcome too! There's a neck massage in it for ya!

Lil' Rick's Birthday Bash last Saturday sure was an eye-opener.

I had my doubts about it being pulled off at the Gymnasium, but everybody and dem parakeet turned up to the fete! The entire floor area of the Gym (except for the stage) was packed! What's that, like 2000...3000 people?

As soon as I entered I noticed that the air was fair to partly cloudy. Someone told me that was due to the smoke machine set up in the corner. Yeah right...like that was fooling anybody! As if everything under the sun wasn't being smoked in there that night! Silly me,

Oh, and I must say, the ladies were undressed to kill! About 1 in 4 females was wearing a form-fitting minidress, the skirt hem of which ended "thisclose" to their crotch area! The whole night the silly girls were walking around tugging at their clothes as they hitched up.
The guys in the camera crew were beside themselves.

Of course, you just can't wear a dress without the weave to match. There was pink hair, green hair, yellow hair (no, not blonde, yellow) and one cutting edge chick in lace-up white boots had what looked like rainbow-coloured bird feathers on her head. After a while I felt kinda drab.

As the night progressed, we remarked on how surprisingly incident-free this event seemed to be going. Well somebody must have jinxed it, because not long after that the sea of people that filled the Gym burst into a stampede in all directions!
The reasonably large stage, upon which I was liming, was rocked by the sudden force of people being pushed against it! As people started bounding on to the stage, I tried not to panic. I stayed put for as long as I dared, then I dodged my way down to where a couple crew members were trying to protect the camera equiptment from the stumbling crowd. Women snatched off their heels in order to run unhindered, big hardback men scampered like spooked cattle, and a few people were pushed to the ground (bet they wish they wore pants under those dresses now!).
I won't lie, that was some scary ish, but I felt better when a camera man exclaimed afterwards "You...my hands cyan stop shaking!"

Special props go to Peter Ram, who would easily win the award for "Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected 2005". Brotha man, in his sharp-ass brown pinstripe suit, maintained his position before, during and after the commotion: chilling against a wall. I don't even think his drink was spilled. That alone could earn him at least a nomination for the next James Bond movie.

Up to now I'm not sure what set off all those people. Some say they heard a gunshot, but I don't recall hearing anything like that.

All I know is that it wasn't a gunshot that scared me, it was that panic seems to turn a crowd into mindless, stampeding wildebeest.

To all the ladies:

If you hear of any upcoming rugby tournaments, make SURE you check it out! Eye candy fuh days. I promise your neck will be sore from swinging your head to and fro checking out all the prime pieces of...I mean the handsome young men.
Good lord.

C.O.T.

I saw the Private in his fatigues for the first time this weekend. Took my breath away. Wow.

C.O.T.

I realise that so-called "ghetto people" look down on so-called "bougie people" JUST as much as "bougie people" are said to look down on "ghetto people".

I remember a former BCC classmate of mine constantly made snide comments about how I dressed/talked/spent my free time, etc.
"Yeah, I like bbq'd pigtails, but you wun know nuttin 'bout dat, right Daana?" or "Your shoes look so...white!" (as in a style preferred by caucasions).

It would always piss me off and I couldn't help but raise an eye-brow and ask "And what is THAT s'posed to mean??" She'd always just roll her eyes and say "Oh nothing."

So what if I sound wrong speaking deep Bajan dialect (e.g. You, ya igrunt hard-foot boar-hog! Gimmuh piece-uh da pigtail dey! At least I can type it)?
So what if I don't have any close friends that live in de Pine?
So what if I've never been inside Penthouse?

I'm still a human being and worthy of respect, dammit.

Last night I watched a small portion of a movie (I believe it was Joan of Ark) which upset me more than I can say.

A French village was being plundered by English soldiers/hordes, and 3 grimy-looking soldiers happened upon a nun in a house. One of the men cornered her against a wooden door (behind which hid her sister, young Joan)and tried to rape her but she was struggling too much. He then took his sword and impaled her through the stomache, pinning her to the door to get her to hold still. Then he violated her noisily while she was slowly dying with her eyes open. The other two soldiers just watched in amazement.

That scene has traumatised me. I can't seem to get it out of my head, and it brings tears to my eyes even now. I know that was just a movie but I've heard of similar things happening during the genocide attempt in Rwanda only a few years ago. Those poor people. This is why I can't seem to bring myself to watch Hotel Rwanda. I'd cry for days.

Why are human beings so cruel to each other? How can you do something like that to ANY living creature much less another person? There's so much ugliness in the world.

I wonder if the actors playing these roles are affected in any way by the horrible things they pretend to do.

This weather is unbelieveble. For two nights in a row while I was driving home I found myself wishing I had oars in the car, or maybe webbed feet. On me, not the car.

C.O.T.
Ok! Here's what's goin' on in my life!

I'm part of a little organisation/group of dancers that's going to compete in the "Champions of the Future" ballroom competion in Blackpool, England on January 7th 2006! That's right...I said Blackpool. We leave Dec. 31st 2005 and return Jan. 9th 2006

Pros:
I'll experience jolly ol' Engie for the first time.
We'll act as Bajan ambassadors on the British ballroom scene.
We'll raise our own standard of dance


Cons:
1. Caw leh, this trip is expensive as rass.
2. 8 days of frosty noses and heinies (my aura itself turns grey whenever I think about this :-( )
3. I'll be forced to spend that time with a couple people around whom I'd really rather not be (thank goodness the rest of 'em are cool).
4. I'll have to ring in the New Year on board a plane with the afore-mentioned people, far away from my homies (dammit! Now that I FINALLY have somebody to kiss at midnight, I won't frikkin' be here!)

If anyone can give me any helpful hints or tips (or money for that matter), I would be most appreciative!

C.O.T.

Private Ryan and I are officially a couple! I may have to dedicate a blog to him, but that'll come later. My head's STILL spinning!

This is not good.

For years I've been bragging, to anyone who'll listen, that I have no allergies of any kind. "I got a bashment shotta immune sytem" (except for the occasional head cold), I've said, with a smug look on my face, "Bad gal nah 'frighten fa dust!"

But for the last couple of months I've been suffering from what I've finally accepted to be an allergic reaction!
Itchy red blotches that appear randomly on my body, then fade after about half an hour.
My mother's convinced that it's caused by dairy. I don't believe God would ever be so cruel as to smite me with an allergic reaction to dairy. I don't even wanna THINK about it. I LOVE dairy. Yogurt, cheese, icecream...bring it on cuz I'm down with it.

However, before I haul my ass to a doctor, I DID agree to try to give up the dairy for a week to see if it'd help.
The longest I managed was about 3 days, then I gave in and had some cheddar in a sandwich.
I resumed my dairy abstinance after that...but then this morning I had a BIG glass of 2% milk, and so help me, it was gooooooooood.

I just couldn't let it spoil, so I finished the carton. As I type this my palms are itching.

No more dairy starting.....right now!

This is...unexpected. Private Ryan seems to be doing everything right...or to be more accurate, not doing anything wrong. I usually blog about all the odd or unpleasant experiences with potential romantic interests, but this time it's different.

Wow...this is almost scary. (Very much in-keeping with the Halloween theme if you're into that sorta thing. Hahaha).

I almost don't know how to react since it's been so long. It may be time to unearth the romantic buried so deep inside me.

This is so very very unusual for me. I feel like Alice about to go down a rabbit hole.

Time to take a deep breath and see where this goes.

Geez, it's been a while. My thoughts are all over the place, so my blog may reflect this somewhat!


Right now I'm in zombie-mode, pretty much just going through my everyday routine because I'm too tired to resist or change. Shooting tv shows in the middle of the night is taking a toll on me.

C.O.T.

It seems I've caught the eye of a young soldier boy. I'll refer to him from now on as Private Ryan. Haha, this should be good. I wonder how long it'll be before I can tell him to drop and gimme 20! *rubs hands and laughs evilly*
I'll admit, he DOES demonstrate some odd behaviour occasionally, but then again...who doesn't?
He actually bit my nails the other night, which, as one can imagine, caught me totally offguard (I thought that biting OTHER people's nails was only something you do after the third date at least!).

I snatched my hand away, and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Did you just bite my nails?"
"Yeah," he replied matter-of-factly "you have nice nails."

I realise that I have this tendency to try to be polite and not freak out when someone does something a little...off.

Right, so there'll be very little hand-holding in the near future for the Private.

C.O.T.

Well, our rumba routine made it through to the NIFCA finals, but not our samba. While I'm not exactly surprised, I AM a little disappointed. The samba is so much more lively and fun. Plus in the samba, I don't have the pressure of pretending I'm in love with someone who won't even help me up after he accidentally drops me on my back during a lift that went wrong. :-S

My partner and I placed 2nd in the advanced classics, and we won the advanced Latin category. However I must point out that there were only two couples competing in each! Oh well! It’s over now, and for that I feel relief. Next up: NIFCA semi-finals with the samba, and that blasted rumba.

A couple of things had me feeling somewhat off-centre at the end of the evening:

1.) When I’m going to compete or perform, I make sure I bring every thing I’ll need: makeup, water, safety pins, paper towels, scissors, stockings etc.

Why is it that SO many other-wise sensible girls and women come to perform COMPLETELY unprepared??
Are they children, or capable adults???
This one wants to borrow my red lipstick, the other wants my safety pins, and yet another has NO idea how to put on any sort of makeup, and pleads with me to do hers when I'm s'posed to be getting ready myself! They don't walk with hairgel, they're USELESS with eyeshadow, and they all want to use MY stuff!! I call them the Dressing Room Leeches! Why, you'd think they'd never done this before!

And 2.) There is something to be said for winning graciously. The attitude of one female competitor (and also a friend of mine) left a bitter taste in my mouth.

She practised SO hard for weeks before the competition with her main goal being to beat out another specific entrant against whom she has a personal vendetta (I didn't agree with her incentive, but whatever gets her going, I s'pose).
Her costume was hot, and she looked great on the floor.
She and her partner won their category...but afterwards all she could do was bitch about the crappy prize with which she was awarded in addition to her trophy!
I couldn't believe it. She frikkin' WON, and instead of basking in her glory for at LEAST that night, she demonstrated the most ungracious attitude I have ever seen, ESPECIALLY in a first time competitor!
She was acting like a prima donna, and I was completely turned off.

I'm the first one to admit that the prizes ARE indeed crappy for this competition, but it IS a new event, and it's a work in progress.


This is the same girl who often remarks with disdain about my mostly cheerful demeanor...as if it's something to be looked down upon.

Actually, it's surprising how often a negative response is given to a sunny attitude.

What the hell IS it about general positivity that makes people so uncomfortable?