My First Day in Nigeria Part 1

As some of you know I went to Nigeria a couple of days after Christmas with my parents. It was my first time and since my mother is Nigerian we were meant to stay with her brother in Aguda, Surulere, Lagos.  It’s funny because I went to my parent’s homelands both in the same year. I went to Jamaica in May and Nigeria in December. I had been to both Africa and the Caribbean before but never Nigeria or Jamaica.

 

On arrival I was tired as hell. I went out on Christmas night and planned to wake up early morning for the Boxing Day sales, but seeing as I didn’t get to my friend’s place until 6 in the morning and home until 12 noon I didn’t manage to make it to the shops until about 2 in the afternoon. Once I got home I had to wash clothes to pack for the next day and ended staying up until 5 the following morning when we left to go to the airport, so to say I was tired is an understatement.

Got to the airport and it was a surreal experience. My mother didn’t even recognise her own brother. (She hasn’t seen him in about 20 years) Both my mother my father were picking out all types of strangers from the crowd. We finally get the right man and after the greetings  walk the loooong walk to the airport car park. There is a lot of hustle and bustle and the whole way to your transport people are coming at you, trying to push your trolley, trying to sell you something or just plain walking beside you talking gibberish.

 

It is about 8pm when we arrive at my uncle’s place and I am looking forward to bathing and sleeping. It is only when we arrive we realise that the house help is being kicked out of her room for us... Uh OH! She does not look happy about it at all, in fact she looks like she didn’t even know that that was going to happen, as all of her stuff is still in the room. There are only two rooms so my uncle and dad are to take the other room.

Keno arrived in Nigeria about 2 weeks before I did and was performing at a club that night, so I was meant to call him when I arrived so that we could go. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to make it as it would seem rude to just arrive and go so I resigned myself to staying in. 15 minutes after arrival the lights go out. Basically electricity in Nigeria is a game of chance so most houses have generators that power the electricity when the lights go out. They have to buy diesel on a daily basis to keep these generators going.  

 

It is night time so it is completely pitch black. My uncle puts on the generator but lo and behold it is a small one as the big one is not working. This small one only lights up the front room. I went in the bedroom to try and get some things to have a shower/bath and I cannot see a thing and using the mobile phone light is all I can do. I manage to find my towel and some clothes and head to the bathroom. It is just too dark for me to see anything and I cannot hold the mobile phone in the shower so I give up.

I decide to call Keno to let him know the state of play. Luckily my uncle had brought me an Etisalat mobile phone chip. I am thinking there is no way I can go out when I can’t even see anything to bath or change, but then on the other hand what will I do in the darkness? I call Keno and tell him I’ve arrived and that there is no electricity. He tells me that he and his brothers have left the house and are on the way to Victoria Island to a bar before the performance. I sure could do with a drink! He tells me that they can come and get me but they will be there within the hour. I decide to go.

In a mad frenzy I search through my suitcase with the mobile phone light. I find a top and some jeans. It seems like an eternity since my last bath but what can I do but rub some wet wipes, use deodorant and spray some perfume? It is impossible to do makeup so I put on some lipgloss and hope for the best. 

 

I don’t think my mother knew the extent of the electricity situation since she hadn’t been back in forever so she is all for me going out. Keno comes and makes himself known and we head out. It is great seeing the guys again, as I haven’t seen them for almost two years when I was last in Atlanta. That was the time with Tamara and Patsy when we saw Ralph Tresvant and the scantily eyebrowed one from New Edition on the plane. We head to the club playing TI “whatever you like” practically the whole way.

First stop is a bar on the island. The girls are dressed to kill, with long ass weaves and shovels of make up. All I have is the long ass weave LOL. With not a penny in my pocket I am relying on generosity and thankfully there is an abundance of it.


 

We then move onto the club where Keno is performing with El Dee and Proto (was it Proto?) there are bottles of brandy on every table so I am really enjoying. Keno takes the stage and blows it up. Looking back it was a shame that I didn’t know the song he was singing. They are singing BIG BOY and every freaking person in the club knows the words... except me! If that show was at the end of the trip I would have definitely known all the words because we had the El Dee CD on repeat the whole trip.


 

So from that club we move onto another called Penthouse. It seems like every Atlanta Nigerian is there because the guys are seeing everyone they know from Atlanta. More bottles are popped (by then I am finished with drinking after the brandy) and things are hype. We are in the VIP area with El Dee and Banky W. Keno is drunk (I have never seen him really drunk) and wildin out to the point that he goes from jumping on the couches to jumping from table to table. It was wild!

Keno:

Me and Keno:

 

El Dee and Banky:

 


Despite my electricity woes and lack of water and any ounce of glamour It was most definitely a great night and Keno wants to make sure everybody knows about it because the following morning he calls everybody that didn’t make it and lets them know! “You missed out BIG TIME!”

*Unfortunately pictures are scarce (HEY KENO CAN I GET AN EMAIL!!!) as my camera got stolen (as Ricki would say thats a whole other talk show) so there won’t be any full picture blogs! 

Wow! It's been such a long time since I posted here. I kept on planning to post but then the longer I stayed away the harder it was… (Geesh I sound like someone who gave her kid up for adoption)

So I planned on posting about Jamaica (aaaages ago) because soooooooooooo much happened that I wanted to tell you guys about but I never got around to it, even though it is almost a year late (well kinda sorta) I still plan on posting about my dramas in the airport, and how they tried to tell me I didn't have a return ticket, Jamaicans obsession with homosexuality, My friend's hating azz sister, Staying in the countryside with just the darkness, trees and a sackful of weed, going to the beach after midnight etc etc…

I haven't blogged in so long because of the whole moving situation. As most of you all know I have been looking for a place since I got back from Brazil in January. My search took me far and wide and round the block and back again. After much run-around I found a nice little two bedroom terrace house. It is a little further out than I had wanted, but hey I've got to go with what my money can buy right?

I was actually hoping to be moved in before I went to Jamaica but alas t'was not meant to be! I had to move out of the place I was sharing with Ruth at the end of April and I moved back to my parents' home, which in a way was good timing because Ruth gave birth to a baby girl in July, and it was time for her to go too! I had my completion date then set for the middle of June. I was waiting for the mortgage offer to be amended, as it has been previously approved for another property that fell through.

Of course it all went wrong. I was told by my mortgage broker than the bank had refused the mortgage. They said that something had probably gone wrong with my credit rating since the last time I'd been scored and so begun the endless stream of phone calls and letters, only to find out that there was nothing wrong with my credit. I then went to see an independent financial advisor who came up with some other reason and tried to peddle me a mortgage which was a percent and a quarter higher than what I had previously had.

I attempted to shaft him only to get persistent telephone calls and emails trying to persuade me to go on his shitty "deal," as there was "no chance" of me getting the cheaper rate. In the end I had to lie and just tell him the cheaper rate had been approved to get him to bog off.

So the next couple of months I spent trying to get the cheaper mortgage approved. In the end it was, but of course more problems lay ahead. The bank took forever to send their surveyor round, and then once the survey was done, they sent out an offer letter to the solicitors with the wrong price, then they put it down as a flat, and then they put the amount of deposit down wrongly. It was never ending and in the end the letter was sent from the bank to the solicitors a total of 4 times before it was done correctly.

Well it's all over now and booooooy am I glad! I moved in on the 16^th of September and I am loving it! I got a tracker rate, so now the rates have dropped down to the lowest rate since the 60's it is ALL to the GOOD for me!!! I had a good rate already and now it is EVEN better. I thought my ass would be broke and holiday less for a couple of years, but if the rate stays like this for a little while more it looks like that might just not be the case!!!

I had the good foresight to book a trip before the mortgage went through in the case of impending brokenness. So instead of Brazil this Christmas I'll be going to Ghana, and Nigeria for the first time ever.

So everybody... What's been going on with you since I was last here?

Following on from the last blog 24 years as a Sex Slave

He (Fritzl) is worried about how his children and grandchildren are coping without him (NONSENSE). He also says that he cherished his seond family in the cellar: they suspect that he was sexing the 19 year old in the coma, his grandaughter.

Here is a more recent article:

Austrian incest monster Josef Fritzl tells his story

May 09, 2008 11:23am

AUSTRIAN Josef Fritzl who kept his daughter as a secret sex slave for 24 years and forced her to have seven children with him has broken his silence and started to tell his incredible story about why he did it.

In an extraordinary admission that will shock the world, Austrian Josef Fritzl said he became addicted to incest with his daughter, who bore him seven children and had imprisoned her in a cellar to save her from the outside world. In comments related by his lawyer to weekly magazine News, Fritzl, who locked up Elisabeth in 1984 when she was 18, said he started raping his daughter a year later.

"My drive to have sex with Elisabeth grew stronger and stronger," Fritzl was quoted as saying.

"I knew Elisabeth didn't want me to do what I did to her. I knew that I was hurting her ... It was like an addiction ... In reality, I wanted children with her."

Elisabeth, 42, spent nearly a quarter of a century in a windowless cell in the basement of Fritzl's house, giving birth to seven of his children, now aged between 19 and five years. Three of the children remained locked up with their mother in the basement and never saw sunlight until their fate was revealed nearly two weeks ago. Elisabeth has told police that Josef started sexually abusing her when she was 11. After earlier claiming "I'm not a monster" perverted Fritzl, admitted he would use that phrase to describe someone who kidnapped his own daughter and locked her away for 24 years.

Revealing he grew up under the Nazis, Fritzl says he was instilled with a respect for authority. Fritzl, who also has seven children with his wife Rosemarie, said he had locked up Elisabeth after she started to "break all the rules" following the onset of puberty. She went to bars, drank alcohol and smoked and ran away a couple of times, the 73-year-old said. He said:

"Ever since she entered puberty Elisabeth stopped doing what she was told, she just did not follow any of my rules any more...She would go out all night in local bars, and come back stinking of alcohol and smoke...I tried to get her out of that swamp, organised her an apprenticeship to become a waitress...I needed to take precautions, I needed to create a place in which I could at some point keep her away from the outside world, by force if necessary...She even ran away twice and hung around with persons of questionable moral standards, who were certainly not a good influence on her... I always had to bring a home, but she always ran away again."

The Sun in London reported Fritzl said he found himself trapped in an inescapable cycle once he had locked up Elisabeth. He told his wife their daughter had joined a sect.

"I knew all the time, during the whole 24 years, that what I did was not right, that I must be crazy to do something like that," he said, referring to Elisabeth's underground world as his "empire". But nonetheless, it became a matter of course for me to lead a second life in the basement of my house."

Fritzl's lawyer, Rudolf Mayer, has said his client should have psychiatric tests to evaluate whether he is fit to stand trial. Mayer said he might ask for a second assessment should the official court opinion not reflect his client's personality. Fritzl described himself as a man who valued decency and good manners and said the emphasis on discipline in Nazi times, when he grew up, might have influenced him.

"Nonetheless, I am not the beast the media depicts me as... When I went into the bunker, I brought flowers for my daughter and books and toys for the children and I watched adventure videos with them while Elisabeth was cooking our favourite dish," he said.

"And then we all sat around the table and ate together."

Known as 'Satan' among other inmates, Fritzl admitted planning the cellar hideaway for up to three years before he stowed Elisabeth away and then getting heavy concrete and a steel door to build it. He plastered the walls, added something to wash in and a small toilet, a bed and a cooking ring, as well as a fridge, electricity and lights.

He told relatives that Elisabeth had run away to join a cult. He said: "Perhaps some people did notice what I was doing, but they really did not care, why should they?

"The cellar of my house at the end of the day is my house, it belongs to me, it is my kingdom only I can enter. That is what everyone knew who lived in the area. That includes my wife, my children, and my tenants, and none of them ever managed to force their way into my kingdom or asked me what I did there."

The fiend also spoke of his mother who raised him as a single parent in Amstetten after she kicked his "loser" dad out of the house. He says she was hard on him but adds: "When I say she was hard on me, she was only as hard as was necessary. She was the best woman in the world. I suppose you could describe me as her man, sort of. She was the boss at home and I was the only man in the house. It's complete rubbish to say my mother sexually abused me, my mother was respectable, extremely respectable. I loved her over across all boundaries. I was totally in awe of her. Completely and totally in awe."

Asked by his lawyer if he had ever fantasised about a relationship with his mother, he replied: "Yes, probably. But I was a very strong man, probably as strong as my mother, and as a result I was capable to keep my desires under control." After a few flings and affairs with women, Fritzl met his future wife Rosemarie who he said was weaker and more shy than his mother.

Asked how it happened that in 1967 after having four children with his wife who he loved he had then betrayed her by climbing into a flat and raping a young nurse, he said: "I do not know what drove me to do that." After 18 months in jail he went back to his wife and had three other children with her and said: "It's really true I do not know why I did it, I always wanted to be a good husband and a good father."

On August 28, 1984 he locked Elisabeth in the cellar dungeon where she was forced to write letters on the command of her father to her family telling them of a new life and that she had no desire to return and asked them not to look for her. Fritzl says he was so scared of being arrested and the world finding out about what he had done to his daughter that he kept her locked away.

"I guess after the kidnap I got myself in a vicious circle, a vicious circle not just for Elisabeth, but also for me from which there was no way out," he said.

When he could not quell his sexual lust for Elisabeth any more, Fritzl laid her down on the bed. He said she did not fight him by scratching, she did not bite or beat him. It was clear that every attempt to fight him off was no point.

"I knew that Elisabeth did not want it, what I did with her. The pressure to do the forbidden thing was just too big to withstand."

She became pregnant the first time in 1988. "Elisabeth was of course very worried about the future, but I bought her medical books in the cellar, so that she would know when the day came what she had to do, and I arranged towels and disinfectants and nappies."

In 1988 Elisabeth gave birth to Kirsten alone in the cellar, and likewise second child Stefan was also born alone and unaided in 1990. Every two or three days he went into the cellar to bring her foodstuffs, clothes and blankets and told her of his life outside, his work with property and of her mother who was so sad about the daughter that had run away.

"It was an obsession with me" he admitted.

Asked what would have happened if he had been killed in a car accident he said: "I prepared well for this eventuality, every time I left the bunker I switched on a timer that would definitely have opened the door to the cellar after a set time.

In 1992 Lisa was born, and screamed so much and was ill so often that Fritzl had decided he needed to bring matters in hand with the cellar family, and arranged for her to be released into the outside world. He told his wife Elisabeth had dumped her on their doorstep and did not want her. It was the same for Monica born in 1994 and Alexander born in 1996.

In 1993 Fritzl extended the 20 square metre bunker into another two rooms.

He said he wanted to extend his kingdom. He bought a television and radio into the cellar, as well as a video recorder, table, chairs, carpets, cupboards, plates, tables and pots. He also bought more kitchen utensils and coloured pictures to put on the wall.

He added: "After the birth of Felix at the end of 2002 I even gave Elisabeth a washing machine as a present so that she did not have to wash her own clothes and that of the children by hand.

"I always knew over 24 years what I did was not correct, and that I must be mad, to do something like this. Yet despite that at the same time it just became a matter of course that I lived my second life in the cellar... If I had died Elisabeth and the children would have been free."

"She taught her children, showing them how to write and read using books Fritzl provided. She cared for them even when she was ill, reading fairy stories of princesses and brave knights but saying the cellar world they lived in was the only reality and that the fairy stories she read, like the pictures on the TV, were just a fantasy."

Fritzl has been remanded in custody in the city of St Poelten. Mayer confirmed to Reuters that Fritzl's comments were authentic.

The Natascha Kampusch story was bad, in fact more than bad… absolutely shocking. She was kidnapped from the street at the age of ten by a total stranger and spent eight years captive in a basement, with a few freedoms afforded to her towards the end of her captivity.

Now imagine 24 years in captivity.

Held captive by your own FATHER!

A father that has been raping you since the age of 11.

A father that in your 24 years in a basement you bear SEVEN children for?

It is outrageous, crazy and sickening! 3 of the 7 children have never left the basement. It is the only life they know, it is where they have grown up. It was only because one of the children in the basement fell sick that the whole thing was discovered. If not how long would he have left them in the basement for? Until death?

The story from The Mirror newspaper

Woman locked in cellar for 24 years by sex slave father

By Stephen White  28/04/2008

For 24 years police thought missing Elisabeth Fritzl had run away from home to join a religious cult.

Yesterday the full, sickening horror of her secret life emerged - for all that time she was allegedly held captive in a cellar by her rapist father Joseph by who she had seven children.

Astonishingly Elisabeth, 42, lived with three of the youngsters in the 1.7metre-high dungeon reached through a garage and accessible only by an electronic lock with a special code.

Their captivity emerged after eldest child Kerstin, 19, was taken to hospital unconscious with a mystery illness. Doctors found a note in her pocket from her mum begging for help.

Another threee children were "adopted" by Joseph, 73, and his wife Rosemarie who was unaware of their parentage. The seventh child, a twin, died shortly after birth. Joseph allegedly burned the body. Joseph is now under arrest suspected of incest and keeping his daughter in captivity. He has not responded to the charges.

Neighbour Anita Lachinger said: "He seemed such a harmless old man.

"No one could ever have guessed this. It's incredible."

Elisabeth is under medical and psychiatric care. Police said: "She has been abused continuously for 24 years."

The children are being cared for in a psychological clinic.

Elisabeth told detectives her agony began at the age of 11 when she claimed her father started abusing her. In August 1984, she said, Joseph lured her into the cellar beneath their home in Amstetten, eastern Austria, drugging and handcuffing her.

The dungeon was made of four small rooms in which to sleep, cook and wash. There was little furniture other than a TV. The only light was from a bulb. Over the years Elisabeth gave birth to three boys and three girls aged from five to 19. The sex of the dead twin, who would be 12 if alive, is not known.

Three of the children - Kerstin, Stefan, 18, and Felix, five - have lived their entire lives in the cellar. They have never seen daylight. The other three - Lisa, 15, Monika, 14, and Alexander, 12 - were cared for by Joseph and Rosemarie.

After Elisabeth first went missing in 1984 police were told her parents had received a letter from her saying not to search for her. Later, Joseph declared she had joined a religious sect.

When Lisa, Monika and Alexander were born, it is claimed, he told neighbours they had been abandoned by their mother and he was taking them in. Instead, it seems that imprisoned Elisabeth passed them over to her grandparents as babies, leaving notes saying she could not care for them.

Police said: "Apparently Josef arranged for the children to have the proper papers on them when they were left in the building, and forced the mother to write accompanying letters.

"The father seems to be very authoritarian and decided what happened and what was supposed to happen in the family. Today we know why he closely guarded that basement." Astonishingly the three youngsters attended school in Amstetten close to their siblings' dungeon.

A school spokesman said: "They are well behaved and always get good marks." DNA samples have been taken of all the family.

The amazing scandal emerged after sick Kerstin was dropped off at a Red Cross hospital in Amstetten, 80 miles west of the capital Vienna. Doctors alerted police after finding a note from Elisabeth in the girl's pocket asking them to do everything they could to help. Last night the critically ill youngster was fighting for life.

A tip-off then led officers to Joseph's nearby home where he was found with his daughter. Distressed Elisabeth only agreed to speak after constant reassurances that she would never have to contact her father again.

Under questioning the sordid story emerged. According to a police statement, Joseph had freed Elisabeth, Stefan and Felix from the cellar, telling his wife that his daughter had come back to them.

He allegedly claimed that sick Kerstin had been left unconscious on his doorstep on April 19.

Do you ever get over your first love?

There are 3 reasons that compelled me to write this blog

1. I had a discussion with Tamara where we were talking about first loves and how we would feel if they resurfaced after all this time. Even though we felt we were both over them, we both said that we would definitely meet up with them again.

2. I have been home for a week sick like a dog with flu/sinusitis. I have been watching Ricki Lake more or less every day. Today there was a woman who came to confront her high school boyfriend for denying her. She was married with a kid and still wanted closure! She kept asking, "Why did you do that to me? Ten years later!

3. I went to my friend Chrystal's house last week and as I walked into the house her 10 year old girl child hollered at me, "Aunty Zara we found a picture of you." I didn't think anything of it until her mother Chrystal chuckled at me and said, "You know that book you gave me we found a picture of you inside it." (I gave her some of my books from childhood for her daughter) I didn't know what she was talking about and then the child said to me, "You were lying on a beach in a bikini." I asked her mother what the child was talking about and she couldn't stop laughing,

"What is she talking about?"

"I can't tell you!"

I was baffled. I set to work on the child,

"What is your mother talking about?"

"I can't tell you. My mum told me not to tell you."

"C'mon just tell me."

In the meanwhile her mother was turning the front room upside down searching through drawers like her life depended on it.

The more frantic the action the more I became anxious. What were they talking about?

Ten minutes passed and no picture,

"Chrystal tell me what picture is it? You can't find it so tell me what it was?"

"No I can't tell you just wait… You have to see it."

I was the cat and curiosity was killing me. After a good ten minutes the picture appeared. It was taken in 1999 on a beach in Miami. The same beach where I met .DAVE . I laughed when I saw it. It brought back memories. Good ones.

I was in the corner of the picture, barely visible, white bikini top blue bikini shorts, in the middle of the night, dark.

"Is this what you stressed me out for?

She was in fits of uncontrollable laugher.

I asked her,

"What is it?"

"It's not the picture although I wondered why you would keep a picture where all you can see is your pinhead."

"What is it then?!

"It's what you wrote on the back… YOU PSYCHO!!! (more uncontrollable laughter)"

I grabbed the picture and turned it over.

EMBARASSMENT!

I had written,

Dear Francis,

I came far and beyond to another land

To write this message for you in the …

And the message can be found in my scriggedy scrawl.

After reading the note on the back the memories came flooding back. I turned the picture over and remembered the night Caroline and I headed to South Beach carving out names in the sand and taking pictures of ourselves next to the carved messages.

In the sand I had written: I LOVE FRANCIS and got her to take my picture next to the message! Likewise she had carved out her own message to her love and we had said we would send them when we to back to the UK. Obviously I had never sent it, as was clear from this note still surviving and doing the rounds.

I had completely forgotten about it and it brought back a flood of memories. Namely all the love notes I used to send him back then.

Where was he?

How was he?

It was 2008 and I hadn't heard from or seen him since 2003. He had turned up at my house early in the morning telling me how he had a child (At this point it had been over a year since I had seen him) I remember telling him that I was happy for him yet at the same time feeling devastated, feeling that he was gone from my life forever. I hadn't thought about him much in this time but the appearance of this picture/note had forced me to think about him.

Curiosity got the better of me and I googled him. I didn't expect to find him as back then he was a hardcore criminal and definitely wouldn't use his real name for anything. Anyway I googled anyway… and guess what I found him. Picture and all. He is an actor now. It was weird. I didn't know how I would feel. One the one hand I was happy for him, on the other hand I was sad, and it brought back a rush of emotions, some good… some bad.

So tell me do you ever get over your first love?

I haven’t felt like blogging much recently, between my impending homelessness and the routine of making offers on dud properties my mood the majority of the time is pretty much not good, plus nothing particularly interesting has been happening lately.

The reason for this blog is an, "I’m bleeding bitch moment." I just had in the office. My long term blog readers will remember my Senegal trip where I was period-ing all over the gaff. If you don’t know click  HERE. On the nine hour trip from Gambia to Senegal I wanted to take a toilet break and Jacob kept telling me to "hold it," forcing me to have to declare, "I can’t hold it, I’m bleeding bitch!"

So today I came on my period at work. I didn’t even know it was coming as I don’t track it in a diary or anything. I normally get some cramps the day before and that is my warning. Today I didn’t get any warning, so the blood rush came unexpectedly not too long before midday. Ugh, so there I was suffering at work with blood soaked knickers (I know gross) and I just felt icky and disgusting so at lunchtime I went home to change my underwear, however I couldn’t make it back in the hour and so had to call with some excuse.

My excuse?

I told a colleague over the phone that I had split my trousers and went home to change my trousers, so of course I had to change my trousers too.

What a flipping mistake!

When I came back they all wanted to make jokes about my split trousers which might have been funny if it were actually true, but it wasn’t funny and as I had a headache AND cramps I really wasn’t in the mood to laugh along with the lame jokes and sniggers. How many times can ONE person be asked how they split their trousers. JEEEZ! I said it once and then I got asked again and again? The third time I was asked I was asked,

"Oooooh! How did you do that, were you bending over?"

I simply replied,

"Something like that."

When someone isn’t entertaining you. Just let it go.

Let my boss bring up the trouser splitting episode ONE MORE TIME and I’mma just tell her,

"I’M BLEEEEEEEEEEEDING BITCH! Oh and "MIND YA DAMN BUSINESS!" before doing some fly kicking in the teefuses.

Geez… if you ask someone something and they give you a short answer without elaboration it’s for a frickin reason… MIND YA BUSINESS!!! And if someone is clearly in a bad mood and thinks your jokes are lame then IGNORE them, as opposed to trying to tell more jokes or constantly yap yap yapping about nothing they find interesting or work related… JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZ!

*exhale*

It has been a while since I wrote about what has been going on here, so here is a quick summary for you.

Sasha came from Rio and stayed for a week. He was the guy that I met here last year through the Rogue Trader. I hooked him up with an apartment from Dona Maria Jose, the lady I got mine from.

In Dona Maria Jose news. I found out that the oven in my apartment had a gas leak (or so it seemed as everytime I put the oven on the partment would fill with the smell of gas.) She sent a technician round and he couldn't fix it. One day I bumped into her in the bank the day after the technician was supposed to make the second visit. I told her that he didn't come. I was then told that they were waiting for parts to come through from Sao Paulo. I told her that I had bought food and that I needed an oven. She then offered to buy me a microwave, an offer which I accepted. An hour later she calls and tell me that she isn't going to get an microwave anymore, she is going to get a new oven instead, so a couple of hours later I have a new oven in tow and it turns out that she knew that old banger of an oven had problems the whole time!

BG of "I ain't no Fonsworth Bentley up in this Byatch Fame" didn't come through. I received an email from him on the 21^st saying that he couldn't wait to come and yadda yadda yadda, and then NOTHING! After not receiving anything from him on the 26^th I just KNEW he wasn't coming. Sasha and Mariana were remaining hopeful, but it was just obvious to me. I managed to talk to him on the morning of the 27^th, the day he was meant to be coming out here and he said that he just "wasn't feeling it." He insists that his girlfriend was not behind the decision, but we ll believe differently. I don't believe you would spend over £800 on a trip and then just decide not to come because you were not feeling like it on the day.

I got another cold… in fact I am still congested and phleghmy. I can't seem to shake this one off!

M and I went to an exhibition and the modern art museum. There was a guy that looked like a pimp (pimp hat and oversized clothing) that appeared to be taking pictures of us and appearing wherever we were. I thought he was American because I heard him say "WHAZZUP GIIIRRL" In the end he came over and it turns out he was Brazilian… and spoke hardly any English either, but he knew how to say WHAZZUP GIIIIRRL? super weird!

I had two bikini waxes and the broccolis are back. I AINT DOING IT AGAIN! I have ingrown hairs to last me a lifetime, and whoever said that a wax lasts 4-6 weeks? HAHAHAHA! On the last visit to the wax place the lady used this seaweed stuff with her index finger because she said it helps with the ingrown hairs… YEAH RIGHT… I don't think anything can help me because I was born with a loofah strapped to my back and that hasn't helped either! There is no such thing as privacy here in Brazil. With your fanny out a door they will be letting all and sundry into the private room.

On Christmas Eve M, Sasha and I left the house about 1am to look for somewhere to go. They had been waiting downstairs for me and when I got there this drunk guy was sauntering past. They were laughing as apparently the guy had walked past a few times. He was going in and out of the gas station stocking up on beers and then stopped to look at the sea before crossing the road and bumping into a lamppost one of the times. As we headed towards the lighthouse the guy pops up again. Sasha looks confused. He says to us,

"I bet this guy is Spanish"

As the guy approached he holds him up,

"Where you from mate?"

Turns out the guy was Irish and his name was Eamon. He had been in Salvador a few days and had been hanging alone, hence the reason for all the beers. He was stocking up to just sit in his room and drink! He ended up joining us and we went to the Borrachoria in Rio Vermelho. It is a garage that fixes cars by day and at night there is a bar in the back that opens up.

Christmas Day was spent at Mariana's aunt's house gorging on gorgeous food. There was a good spread. The night was spent on ho's corner and then Pelourinho where we met Sasha and Eamon again.

Boxing Day (Why is it called that anyway?) was crazy. Tara and Eamon had a flirtation going on so when we went to Dubliners the Irish Bar in Barra and he started flirting with one of the bargirls she freaked out, demanding that we leave the place. My drink was still fill to the rim so that was not going to happen. After calming her down we decided to stay, and what a night it was. Danilo and his American friends came by, and then some of M's friends came through. Everyone was introduced and the guys were playing pool with Eamon, who had previously been playing with a bar girl, however when the American Crew came by the bargirls attention was diverted and Eamon was pissed. It was hilarious. M had come through with some gin and some vodka, so everyone was buying soft drinks and topping up with the store bought alcohol.

After a few hours everyone was pretty much pissed, as in drunk. Somehow Eamon was left with a bill for 150 RS. He had been left to foot the bill for everyone playing pool and there were drinks on the bill that did not belong to him. The bargirl who he probably thought could take home was not paying attention to him and in his words that night, was "treating me like a cunt." So this is what happened, she pushed the bill towards him and he said at the time that he just saw red and told her,

"PAY IT YA FOOOOOOOKIN` SELF!"

He then tried to run out of the bar… QUALITY!

In the end it was the rogue trader that had to perform an intervention. The matter was settled and Eamon paid 100RS, although he was still pissed all the way home. He said the next day that he couldn't believe that he had been such an idiot, as the girl had only ben doing her job and so he went back to the bar and apologised the the girl. She took it in good spirits. I`m sure she has seen plenty of drunkards in her time.

New Years Eve was a blast, although we almost didn't make it out there. I had two dresses lined up but both looked shit on the day, plus both were seethroughish and my only clean knickers were these big bright pink huge panties. The day before I left for Brazil I went to buy underwear from peacocks and the only minibrief packets that they had were these neon pinky colours. Needless to say you cant wear big pink knickers under a floaty chiffony dress, so that was a big mess. Mariana then says she doesn't like her outfit so we sit on the balcony looking at the hustle bustle down below. She turns and says to me,

"You know if I just go to sleep now, I won't be upset."

I reply,

"Neither would I."

In the end I find some black knickers and her friend Lucas and his cousin Mozais come through so we are strong armed out of the apartment. I'll continue with the New Year's Eve story another time.

How was your Christmas and New Year?

I have been here for exactly a week now, although it feels like I got here yesterday.

It had been a non stop whirl of partying, eating and drinking until Thursday. It was too sweet for there not to be a sour!

On Sunday night Mariana invited her two friends Victor and Ugo around to the apartment, and we hung out here.

We then spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights in Pelourinho, where there are concerts and performances going on nightly.

It was funny because Mariana belongs to a travellers website called COUCHSURFING. On our way to Pelourinho on Tuesday we stopped off at the internet café and there was an email from this British Indian guy who wanted to meet up. She emailed him her number and then we left. When we got to Pelo we went into this hostel to get a sandwich. Afterwards I got to use the bathroom and Mariana is outside it.

I hear this guy approach her,

"Excuse me you look familiar…"

I knew straight away it was the guy she just emailed without even seeing him, and it was!!! We ended up going with them to the concert. One of the guys he was with said he was on a worldwide professional Frisbee tournament… At first I thought he was joking but then he did not laugh so I kept a straight face. Wow! I did not know there were people that played professional Frisbee… You learn something knew every day!

So skip to Wednesday night and Mariana stays over because we are planning to go to the beach the following day. I am feeling a little congested but I put it down to the air conditioning and so put open the windows and put the fan on for fresh air.

I wake up in the morning feeling like DEATH. There is no way I can go lie on a beach feeling like this. We leave the house straight away to go get some flu relief medicine from the Pharmacy. I pop pills all day in a bid to get knocked out and wake up to a sense of normalcy. Mariana goes home.

I lie in bed pretty much the whole day. It is about 9pm and I have just popped some of the pills and am drifting off when I see this big cockroach fucker approaching me from the bedroom door. I jump up and start screaming. The next thing I know it is on the bed. I jump off the bed and reach for the mosquito spray. At this point I am screaming and wailing, coughing, jumping and spraying and the fucker just will not die. It is still moving when the spray runs out! I slam the door, rip the scarf off my head and run out of the apartment.

My phone has no credit so I cannot call anyone. The kiosk closest to the apartment is closed, so I head toward hos corner. There I find some credit for my phone and some cockroach spray. I go to the internet café while I think of my next step of action.

Remember the Rogue Trader? The one we got the apartment from last time? The guy that gave us the apartment with the wardrobe with no back? The guy that fought on the streets and was always with hookers?

He was online on MSN Messenger. He told me, "Congratulations on your Site"

Then he told me, "It was a very bad thing you did. Who did it?"

I was a bit confused. Then he said to me,

"Google my name."

Of course I googled his name and all that shit I wrote about him with a big ass picture, a year ago now, came up!!! Ooooh plus the videos… he was not impressed at all. Anyway I took them down. I don't want all the hos corner lunatics after me!

In the end my friend Eddy came and disposed of the cockroach for me. We also sprayed the place with the cockroach spray and then left to go and drink on the street around the corner. I only managed one drink before I had to go and lay my sick ass down!

So Thursday morning I am still sick as fuck, writhing around on the bed amongst my bogey tissues when my friend Alex says he is nearby. So I get up, shower, dress and we go to eat at this place where its eat all you want for 9 Reias. I am on my last bit of money so he takes me to HSBC bank to go and restock. The bank will not give me any money, so we try two other machines, but NO JOY.

We go to Banco Do Brasil and CitiBank and the same thing happens. I figure the bank must have blocked my card, so on my last 20 something Reais I have to call the bank in England at this telephone booth at the internet place. It is 2.67 per minute to call the UK. Its payday Friday before Christmas, who even knows how long they will have me on hold? I manage to get through and they put me on hold twice. I figure if I cannot pay for the phone call in its entirety what is the worst that can happen? At least if I complete the call and get the card unblocked then there will be the money available at some point! I get through the call in 8 minutes and I have enough money to pay for it so its all gravy!

Its Saturday and I still feel a little fluey although much better than I was before. Gonna go to the beach in a little while…

Sunday 15^th December

I am so happy to finally be here. To wake up, look out of the window and see the sea right thurr makes it all worth it.

I got through baggage claim at about 10 pm. Cacicque, the taxi driver that Daniel (the guy that I am renting the apartment from) sent for me was standing there with big smiles as I walked through arrivals, holding a notebook open with my name in big ass letters written across two pages.

As soon as I got out of the airport I made my way to the arcarje stand opposite. It felt so good to gobble it down, as I did, after imagining it for so long. I arrived at the apartment about 11 or so. I like it. It is spacious clean, well equipped and has excellent views. I am pleased that I got a good deal. I was meant to go out with Mariana last night but I am glad that I didn't because I was so tired that as soon as my head hit the pillow I was O-U-T.

As I wake up this morning the only thing that is really bothering me is the fact that the area around my fingernails is sore and swollen. I treat them with tea tree oil. Remember how I told you about the manicure and pedicure in the airport in Sao Paulo? The bitch that did my nails FUCKED ME UP! I saw her cutting skin around the cuticles and thought she was taking away a bit much, but I figured that she must know what she is doing, besides I did not know the Portuguese for, "Why are you fucking up my cuticles?"

Here are some pics of the apartment:

The bad news is that I'm still not in Salvador!

I knew all this when I booked but I still went ahead so who do I have to blame but myself?

This has been one hell of a journey!

First the 8 hours or so to Washington DC and then the 9 and something hours to Sao Paulo, where I am now, at the airport at some internet/ post office/ telephone place.

I'm doing whatever I can to stay awake cos I don't want to nod off on some airport seat and find my luggage gone!

Remember the blog where I asked how I could get into first/business class and you all gave me advice? Well I used it and I was semi succesful! Yaaaay me!

I got myself a United Airline frequent flier card and wore some smart clothes (which I never do.) On the London to Washington DC leg, the seats weren't going to be assigned until the gate. It looked promising as the guy that helped me do the automatic check in told me that it was a distinct possibility. Added to the fact that some guy came up to me and asked me if I was a singer or producer I was feeling rather lucky.

I get to the gate and what do they tell me?

NO CHANCE!

I was there in economy suffering for hours. All the time I kept thinking of the next hellish flight I would have to endure and telling myself that if David Blaine can lock himself in a glass box for a month that it was nothing!

I got to Washington DC and my luck changed. I asked for an upgrade and BINGO! I got one. I was soooooooooooo happy. They were brinigng champagne around every other minute and pumping me full of gorgeous food... It was glorious I tell ya! I even slept for a good 5 hours straight and it was soooooooo comfortable! I was loving it!

So here I am now in Sao Paulo. I feel like a dirty wretch so I don't even wanna venture out further than the front of the airport building. I went straight to go and check in for my next flight (leaves something past 7 in the evening) at 11AM. I stood in that queue for 2 hours just hoping I could get on something earlier.

NO SUCH LUCK!

The lady at the check in told me that all the Salvador flights are full, so I've had to stick to the original schedule which means hanging around for a good six hours. Its now almost 3 so I've got another 4 hours or so to go. I just had a manicure and pedicure since I didn't get it done before I left.

Now I'm at a loss for what to do. I've been around the whole airport twice, been in every shop and there isn't anything else for me to do... arrrgggggggggggggggggh!

Tchau!

It has been a rough rough night.

My eyes sting like I've been peeling onions.

As you must be aware by now today I am going to Brazil. (Washington DC----Sao Paulo --- Salvador)

Last night Icouldn't find my Brazilian money. All of it, despite it being in two different envelopes.

Ruth finished doing my hair at about midnight and then I spent the next three hours turning the place upside down looking for the money and sitting on the side of the bed just racking my brain as to where it could be.

I found one envelope on a bookshelf and one envelope under the bed despite covering those same areas numerous times, it took me until past 3'O Clock to see them.

So now I am up at 8.30 in the morning writing this, as I have to get my ass to the Post Office because some wench from ebay said the film I sent her didn't play (I actually watched it before I sent it) and now I have got to go and send a replacement... BAH!  I then have to go and get my feet done cos they look a right state and haven't been unveiled in a while.

I have been up for the last hour because my mother turned up in her usual unannounced fashion with a bag of loofah  and a bag of sanitary towels. Please don't even ask me why because I do not know myself. In the bag there were all different types and colours Allways and I was baffled! Thats mothers for you!

I'm excited about this trip, but at the same time dreading the mammoth journey that lies before me. I've only taken 3 flights (back to back) once before and I SWORE I would never do it again... Well so much for swearing as here I am!

See ya when I get there!

THIS BLOG IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE BLOGFATHER, BLOGXILLA!

Click the Picture to go to his profile

Y'all go to the club, and fill these women up with drinks, then sweet talk them to some of the most degrading music in the world. Offer to buy them stuff and whatever comes to the male drunk mind. Also these dudes spend ridiculous amounts of money to look good for a chick. For what? To do the Nasty that's what!! STUPID DUDES.

So guess what? It works, you get the girl to the Motel (Short stays apply) and what happens next? He barely gives her 2 minutes of sex. Now I have a homeboy who specializes in Quickies, during commercial breaks of football games and he says that he gives a full 2 minutes of dick. Cool I respect that but these dude and paying to barely give out 2 minutes of a dick byproduct of too much liquor and bright clothing.

Some might say I'm hating right now but I'm really not. Because pussy is free if you know how to talk to a woman, respect them and basically just treat them how a woman should be treated.

I was in the club a while back and this dude walks up to this chick and starts singing Plies - "I told Mommy I'll pay for it?" Dude you're fucking up the game. Note to lame dude *Just b/c you sell drugs you have nothing better to do w/ your money other than pay for vagina and buy expensive cloths because your ugly by nature, never paid attention in school, and attach to a lame dick that doesn't demand a call back from the lady you just spent a college education on?*

So what happens next? Dude Usually blows up her cell phone with a million voice mail's and Text messages begging for a 2nd chance from a chick who only wanted to get drunk and get laid. Now Don't get me wrong I'm not bashing the ladies out there, get yours Queens. If these dudes are going to drop all that money then by all means get it, the ladies are getting their coochies licked, new shoes, clothes and dinner and what ever else he hands out. I can't understand how in  his eyes she's the jump off but he's the one being used for dick, he's the one who will always be dick, he's the one who just got pimped and didn't even know it.

So on the list of winners and losers. Females, Restaurants owners and Liquor makers are the winners. The lame drunk dealer dudes are the Losers.

Check Me out @ BlogXilla.com/scribes everyday. Join the fun and be sure to subscribe whilst you're there!

So at work we have this new manager and she doesn't like people going off to smoke in pairs despite there being 7 of us in the office (well when there is a full house anyway which is practically never!). We are entitled to two fifteen minute breaks a day plus lunch but yet every time you try and go off she gives a disapproving glare or tries to engineer some task so that you can't go and smoke with someone else. This means that if you want to go and smoke with someone else in the office sneaky tactics are needed. This is usually done by one person passing through one door under the guise of going to fill a water bottle/collect mail/ using the lavatory, and another person passing through the other door under some other pretence.

This afternoon the new manager had a meeting with a senior manager. They were inducting a member of staff that had been away for a while. As soon as she left out it was like SMOKE BREAK TIME!!! The grave mistake we made was leaving only one other person in the office. That is a big no no according to the new manager, but since she wasn't there and the person being left alone didn't mind we went for it. We snuck around a back route to the smoking area so as to not pass the room that we thought the induction was in.

We arrive at the smoking area, sit on a chair, stretchy out the legs and light up. Niiiiiiice.

One Puff…

Two Puffs…

Preparing for the third when the doors to one of the rooms in a portacabin about 10 metres in front of us opens up.

*CLICK*

It all happened so fast.

It was the new manager, the senior manager (also our manager, but doesn't work in the same office or site) and the member of staff that was being inducted. We froze a second too long. My mind was telling me to duck down behind the skip in from of the smoking area, but my body was stuck.

Too late!

We've been seen!

It all happens so quickly but when someone you want to hide from spots you, running while they are looking directly at you just is not an option.

"Hi!" He calls out to us. We don't say anything and just sit there looking sheepish. Our manager (the one that actually is in the same room as us and doesn't like us going out in pairs) doesn't see us, and the three of them start walking in the opposite direction heading towards the office.

There is still hope!

We then turn to each other, searching intently for answers. My colleague furiously stubs out her cigarette on the glass shelter while I just break mine in half. She is like a mini rocket running the sneaky back way to the office at the speed of lightening to try and get there before they do. I can't test her speed so I saunter casually as though we hadn't just been sitting there puffing away together. The whole way back I am chuckling to myself because I find the whole thing sooooooooo funny.

Amazingly we get away with it. The senior manager doesn't think it is strange that my colleague reaches the office before he does despite going a route that takes twice as long to get there and doesn't mention it.

Afterwards the colleague that was having an induction says that she saw the both of us passing the room where they were, but the other two didn't see us. Funnily enough the room where we thought they would be congregated wasn't the room that they were actually in. If we knew that they were going to be directly in front of the smoking area we would have probably kept our asses in the office.

Now for some random true life quotes that I thought about today and kept me cracking up…

BG to Mr P when he tried to peel a piece of my sunburnt nose skin off my face,

"What you think this is? This ain't no FACE OFF nicca!"

BG to Natasha when after seeing him pack his clothes to take to the Laundromat, she asked him to take her sheets with him to wash too,

"I ain't no Fonzworth Bentley up in this byatch!"

Natasha to BG shortly afterwards when he asked to use her nail clippers,

"I ain't no Bath and Bodyworks up in this byatch!"

Dominica to one of her professors, after he told her that if she curbed her argumentativeness she would be able to find a good husband,

"What you mean like you? Ugh no thanks. I'm not into bestiality."

This is a quick short blog based on a conversation I just had with a friend.

My friend (Theresa) lives with her guy friend (Tommy). She rents a room from him. They live together in a two bedroom house in Manchester.

Tommy has a girlfriend that he has been going out with for the past 8 months, lets call her Melinda. Melinda has an 8 year old little girl and they come up to Manchester every other weekend to visit.

Melinda and Tommy are kinda serious. So serious that Melinda suggested to Tommy that they move in together. Somehow a misunderstanding occured and Melinda was under the impression that Tommy wanted her to move in with him.

Melinda told Tommy that she wanted to move out of London and up to Manchester and Tommy had been all for it, not realising that she wanted to move in with him.

Fastforward to the point where Melinda has packed up her stuff and moved her kid out of school. It was only just before the big move that the misunderstanding came to light. Melinda was furious but accepted Tommy's offer to rent out another flat that he owns which has two bedrooms.

Due to the fact that she wasn't going to be moving in with Tommy, Melinda brought with her a female friend to Manchester to live with her in the two bedroom flat. Both jobless on arrival my friend Theresa hooked Melinda's friend up with a job, however Melinda remains jobless to date.

Now Theresa and Tommy have a history together. Although they are just friends at the moment, at one point (a few years back) there was something more.

So Teresa and I were just talking and we both couldn't get why the chick would sleep over their place almost every day with her kid but still Tommy couldn't commit to moving in with her properly? What kind of sense does that make?

And for Melinda, how on earth does it make sense to move halfway across the country for your man and he is shacked up with another woman? Is it just me or does this not make sense AT ALL?

Why couldn't he move in with Melinda and rent the other place to Theresa?

Theresa told me that she feels uncomfortable being there as she knows that Melinda doesn't want her there, plus with the kid making noise for hours on end and the both of them taking over the whole house, the situation is doing her head in, however Tommy is as happy as Larry with the arrangement.

Melinda on the other hand wants to start planning a family as soon as possible and is putting the pressure on Tommy. Tommy claims he is not ready yet, but doesn't want to let her go because he is in his late 30's and she MIGHT be the one.What the frigg is that about? Melinda has requested that Tommy throw Theresa out to make room for the kid and he has refused, saying that he will never throw a friend out. However Theresa has told him she can move and he doesn't want her to.

I personally think that perhaps he still has the hots for Theresa. Only recently he made a drunken pass at her,after which they had a fumble and a snog. When I asked her if he still had the hots for her she claimed that it was "nothing" and that he was "just drunk."

Or perhaps he has just got himself in deeper than he wanted with this chick (what with her totally leaving behind her whole life for him) and is using Theresa as an excuse to not let the relationship progress. I guess some people don't like being alone and will stick with someone their heart is not really with until something better comes along.

If you were Melinda how would you feel? Would you have moved halfway across the country when you realised that you were not going to be living in the same place as your man?