<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151</id><updated>2012-02-02T03:58:59.833Z</updated><category term='Couples'/><category term='Honest meme'/><category term='Run'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='Franklin'/><category term='Break ups'/><category term='Actions'/><category term='Secret Santa'/><category term='Incomplete'/><category term='Suspension'/><category term='god mother'/><category term='1st Boyfriend'/><category term='Names'/><category term='Baby boy'/><category term='Bitch'/><category term='Games'/><category term='Feelings'/><category term='Danfo'/><category term='Questions'/><category term='Oshodi'/><category term='Credit Crunch'/><category term='Thankyou'/><category term='Shopping'/><category term='Gucci'/><category term='Butterflies'/><category term='Broken Laptop'/><category term='Danny Bagucci'/><category term='Xmas Wish List'/><category term='&apos;Boo'/><category term='Video'/><category term='Love Letter'/><category term='Retail Therapy'/><category term='Offering time'/><category term='Superdrug'/><category term='Pimping'/><category term='Being single'/><category term='Quotes'/><category term='BA'/><category term='Wedding'/><category term='Valentine'/><category term='Daddy'/><category term='In his words'/><category term='God'/><category term='Thrill of the Chase'/><category term='Confessions'/><category term='Boobs'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='Men'/><category term='Mediocre'/><category term='Cakes'/><category term='About me'/><category term='Heros'/><category term='Romance'/><category term='African Idol'/><category term='Old Flames'/><category term='Mothers'/><category term='Meme'/><category term='Snow'/><category term='Love'/><category term='King Solomon'/><category term='Anniversary'/><category term='Meeting bloggers'/><category term='Dance steps'/><category term='Goldfish'/><category term='Happy birthday'/><category term='Easter'/><category term='Merry xmas'/><category term='Michael Jackson'/><category term='Browns&apos;'/><category term='Shower'/><category term='Love Problems'/><title type='text'>Confessions of a London gal...</title><subtitle type='html'>If you dont wanna live on the edge, thats fine. But don't complain about not being able to see the view.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5617374557919297739</id><published>2009-08-20T16:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T16:20:38.938+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Offering time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Franklin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dance steps'/><title type='text'>Bro Franklin dont play! (Offering time)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Oh lawdy! Just when you think you've seen it all!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This apparently happened in a church in Texas!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Makes me feel like I dont show enough gratitude when thanking God!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8pUAnrVWUkk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8pUAnrVWUkk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5617374557919297739?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5617374557919297739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5617374557919297739' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5617374557919297739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5617374557919297739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/08/bro-frankin-dont-play-offering-time.html' title='Bro Franklin dont play! (Offering time)'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-7767135661086225811</id><published>2009-08-16T20:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T20:46:01.628+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&apos;Boo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='King Solomon'/><title type='text'>King Solomon</title><content type='html'>Song of Solomon 1:2&lt;br /&gt;Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, For his expressions of love are better than wine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of Solomon 2:16&lt;br /&gt;My beloved is mine, and I am his...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of Solomon 3:4&lt;br /&gt;I have found the one my heart loveth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of Solomon has always been my fave book in the Bible...&lt;br /&gt;Wondering why..?&lt;br /&gt;2 words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;King Solomon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man had a way with words...&lt;br /&gt;And I'm a sucker for a man that can melt me with his words...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one's for you baby...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You melt my heart...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-7767135661086225811?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/7767135661086225811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=7767135661086225811' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7767135661086225811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7767135661086225811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/08/king-solomon.html' title='King Solomon'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8032286245950812966</id><published>2009-08-15T09:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T09:25:14.704+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Danny Bagucci'/><title type='text'>Don BaGucci!</title><content type='html'>Happy birthday to a very good friend- the one and only Don Danny BaGucci!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's wishing you a super fabulous day Danny boy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8032286245950812966?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8032286245950812966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8032286245950812966' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8032286245950812966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8032286245950812966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/08/don-bagucci.html' title='Don BaGucci!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8843275454796389699</id><published>2009-07-31T19:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T19:52:57.159+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Danfo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oshodi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Jackson'/><title type='text'>MJ no get Danfo money!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SnM81M68YHI/AAAAAAAAAKE/vl-FgamHer8/s1600-h/5900_134032006872_715326872_3017157_4593169_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 437px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364698465827577970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SnM81M68YHI/AAAAAAAAAKE/vl-FgamHer8/s400/5900_134032006872_715326872_3017157_4593169_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8843275454796389699?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8843275454796389699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8843275454796389699' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8843275454796389699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8843275454796389699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/07/mj-in-oshodi.html' title='MJ no get Danfo money!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SnM81M68YHI/AAAAAAAAAKE/vl-FgamHer8/s72-c/5900_134032006872_715326872_3017157_4593169_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3462692177565744742</id><published>2009-07-01T18:00:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T18:00:17.328+01:00</updated><title type='text'>You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;..."You and you alone make me feel that I am alive...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Other women, it is said, have seen angels, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;But I have seen thee and thou art enough."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;--George Moore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3462692177565744742?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3462692177565744742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3462692177565744742' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3462692177565744742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3462692177565744742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/07/you.html' title='You...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-9197502356598628295</id><published>2009-05-18T12:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T12:08:09.848+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a thought...</title><content type='html'>Contrary to popular belief...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you'll find that men are often more romantic than women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women &lt;em&gt;expect&lt;/em&gt; Romance...Men have to provide it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-9197502356598628295?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/9197502356598628295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=9197502356598628295' title='53 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/9197502356598628295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/9197502356598628295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-thought.html' title='Just a thought...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>53</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-674756558165193079</id><published>2009-05-12T12:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T12:50:22.046+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mothers'/><title type='text'>To all the mums out there…</title><content type='html'>Some say labour is hard…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some say it’s not that hard…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I think the ones that say the latter are the ones that haven’t experienced it&lt;br /&gt;Or are men…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fortunate enough to be in the delivery room when one of my best friends was having a baby… (The one I planed the baby shower for…&lt;a href="http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/boobies-oshodi-cakes.html"&gt;remember&lt;/a&gt;?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words cannot describe the emotions that went through me…&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t scary,&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t galling,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It was magnificent and breathtaking.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so proud of my friend,&lt;br /&gt;I was so thankful to God for ensuring a safe delivery&lt;br /&gt;And I was sooo proud of the fact that I am a woman..&lt;br /&gt;who would one day be opportuned to go through that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you, whoever said “Women are the weaker sex”, has a screw loose in their brain!&lt;br /&gt;Women are strong, brave and downright heroic.&lt;br /&gt;For only a hero can go through what I saw my friend go through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the mothers out there…&lt;br /&gt;This one’s for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.S. I am only having 2 kids now (changed my mind from having 4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.P.S. I hope they come as twins! :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;P.P.P.S. I may not be around for a few weeks in a few weeks time- going away on a &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;well deserved&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;holiday!-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;So if you dont find me on your blogs, or if I dont update till I get back, it doesnt mean my love for you has died! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-674756558165193079?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/674756558165193079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=674756558165193079' title='34 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/674756558165193079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/674756558165193079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-all-mums-out-there.html' title='To all the mums out there…'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>34</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8275694262072687813</id><published>2009-05-06T18:18:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T19:47:42.902+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Games'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thrill of the Chase'/><title type='text'>Games Men play...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SgGF8c0MYII/AAAAAAAAAJ8/gC_u8Odh7uQ/s1600-h/men%2520-%2520women.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332690707357130882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 340px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SgGF8c0MYII/AAAAAAAAAJ8/gC_u8Odh7uQ/s400/men%2520-%2520women.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine sent this article to me. He thinks it's a lotta bull and so do I....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i wanted to share my take on it with you guys anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The Games Men Play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1. Understand that men are turned on by the women who play it coy. Playing it coy makes the guy realize that you’re not going to give it up easily, and it will take some work to win you over. Some women may believe that giving a guy what he wants immediately will put them in his good graces. The opposite is actually true!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Whilst I dont think any girl should give 'it' up (by 'it' I mean herself, sex and her emotions) just because they think it would get them in good graces with a guy, I think playing the &lt;em&gt;hard to get routine&lt;/em&gt; is so retro. I understand there are times its called for, but the best times I have had in my life, are when I dont over think everything and just go with the flow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;So what if you kiss a guy on the 1st date? Does that make you any less the woman you are? Any man that thinks any less of you because you went past 1st base earlier than some other women would so aint worth your time... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Realize that he wants be the “man." Games are often about boosting a man’s ego. If a guy waits to call you, he feels he is keeping you at his mercy. If you return the call immediately or act too eager, you are confirming that he is the man and validating his ego. If a guy takes time to call you, take time to return his call.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I am a bad game player,&lt;br /&gt;I dont follow the rules...&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I dont even know the rules...&lt;br /&gt;but I know me...And I know what I want...&lt;br /&gt;With me it really &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; simple...&lt;br /&gt;I always give as good as I get..&lt;br /&gt;So if I get a 100% you best believe I'll try my best to give a 100% back&lt;br /&gt;And if I dont get the best I can from someone...&lt;br /&gt;I bounce.&lt;br /&gt;Simply because...&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to be with someone that doesnt deserve my 100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Understand that it’s the thrill of the hunt. Notice that it’s not about what he can catch. Rather, it's about what he can hunt. In other words, instant gratification is not as satisfying as something that takes some work. If he is only about the hunt, it will be obvious, and you can decide whether or not he’s worth your time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I get the 1st sentence above.&lt;br /&gt;One way or the other we can all relate to that...&lt;br /&gt;But I think it's something that men should learn to know when its &lt;em&gt;needed &lt;/em&gt;to be done...&lt;br /&gt;It doesnt take much to recognise a woman that likes to be chased...&lt;br /&gt;Just as it doesnt take much to recognise a woman that is confident in herself, knows what she is worth and doesnt need to have a man chasing her around before she does what she'll eventually do anyway. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;That said...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not only guys that revel in the "Thrill of the chase"&lt;br /&gt;Some women like to be the 'Prey' to the 'Predator'&lt;br /&gt;I am just not one of them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Probably something to do with my zilch patient levels. &lt;/em&gt;:o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Realize the bottom line is validation. You may wonder why it is that men play games. A huge part of it is that they want validation. Men often get validation through the games that they play. Women tend to make the mistake of trying harder when a guy is playing games. As a result, men get validation through their little games and continue to play them with other women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ok, Seriously?!&lt;br /&gt;Validation?!&lt;br /&gt;Now that's just BullShit!&lt;br /&gt;A man that needs to treat women like shit in order to feel validated&lt;br /&gt;Aint no man!&lt;br /&gt;Period!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. Recognize that games are kept to a minimum when a guy truly likes a girl. This simple little fact is crucial when it comes to weeding out the guys who are looking for a &lt;a style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal! important; FONT-SIZE: 100%! important; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px! important; COLOR: #0364a4! important; BACKGROUND-COLOR: transparent! important; TEXT-DECORATION: none! important" href="http://www.ehow.com/how_2329740_understand-games-men-play.html##" target="_blank" itxtdid="6406718"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;and the guys who are looking for other things. If a guy is really into a girl, he won’t want to play games because he won’t want to risk losing a good thing. If he persists in playing games, it’s either about finding a hookup or validating his ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Games sometimes are fun...&lt;br /&gt;Both parties can get a kick outta it...&lt;br /&gt;Knowing when to stop &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; the key...&lt;br /&gt;Stop at the right time, or one could end up loosing it all...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Timing, as they say...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;is key...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In my book...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Knowing someone's got your back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Knowing someone other than your &lt;em&gt;mother&lt;/em&gt; gives a toss about you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Knowing there's that &lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt; person you can always be yourself with...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Beats the thrill of the chase...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Beats the need to play games...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8275694262072687813?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8275694262072687813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8275694262072687813' title='54 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8275694262072687813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8275694262072687813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/05/games-men-play.html' title='Games Men play...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SgGF8c0MYII/AAAAAAAAAJ8/gC_u8Odh7uQ/s72-c/men%2520-%2520women.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>54</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-2387758615194780727</id><published>2009-05-04T14:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T14:45:34.328+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thankyou'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meeting bloggers'/><title type='text'>I laugh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5emPbzIb_w&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5emPbzIb_w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The last few days havent been very great for me in more ways than one... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have had many things not going the way I want them to and that sort of brought me down... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To the extent that I didn't really blog stalk for some time... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;And y'all know Confessions dont play when it comes to shouting '1st!' on your blogs!&lt;/em&gt; :o) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But you guys made me remember the main reason I started my blog in the 1st place..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Your kind words were very much appreciated! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so as a thank you...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This video is for you Blogsville... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It had me in stiches! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And just in case you were wondering THAT'S A GUY DANCING!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Note to Male Bloggers, go brush up your dancing skills* :o)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On another note-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I met up with some bloggers yesterday...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://shubbydoo.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shubby Doo&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://shonavixen.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shona Vixen&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://afrolicious-babe.blogspot.com/"&gt;Afrobabe&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://wherewordsaresold.blogspot.com/"&gt;Word Merchant&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://jayla-jayna.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jayla&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We had CRAZY fun! We disturbed Shona's grandmum a bit with our noise, but I think she's starting to get used to Shona's gaga friends! :o)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Too much alcohol, unfortunately no one was drunk enough for us to take a picture of their ass and post about it! lol&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was nice meeting you girls! I had great fun!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Bank Holiday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;*CLG*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-2387758615194780727?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/2387758615194780727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=2387758615194780727' title='46 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/2387758615194780727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/2387758615194780727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-laugh_04.html' title='I laugh!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>46</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5756469337092078363</id><published>2009-04-30T01:48:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T02:50:24.978+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><title type='text'>Have I...? Is it...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Like one of my fave people likes to say "Confessions, everything you say comes with a disclaimer"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;This is my disclaimer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Following post has nothing to do with anyone or anything for that matter...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;It just is what it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;A post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling I'd give up on Love soon...&lt;br /&gt;It's gotten too complicated and I'm not sure it's worth the hassle anymore&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling that after some time, I wont have any more fight in me...&lt;br /&gt;I've fought for too long on too many things I've in life and it's about time I stopped&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling I'd end up with someone I love more than he loves me...&lt;br /&gt;Some past events makes me feel this way&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling &lt;em&gt;only &lt;/em&gt;love, may never be enough...&lt;br /&gt;My past relationships were built on love, when the love evaporated, so did the r'ship&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling I may never get what I want when it comes to love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all too hard...&lt;br /&gt;This emotion called LOVE...?&lt;br /&gt;It's all too hard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you know...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you know he's the right one?&lt;br /&gt;How do you know when to stop believing he's the right one?&lt;br /&gt;How do you know when to give up on it all and pack up your bags?&lt;br /&gt;How do you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want...Unreservedly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be able to love unreservedly...&lt;br /&gt;I want to be able to show my &lt;em&gt;real &lt;/em&gt;emotions unreservedly...&lt;br /&gt;I want to be able to trust unreservedly...&lt;br /&gt;I want to speak out &amp;amp; communicate unreservedly...&lt;br /&gt;I want to be able to perform &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt; I do in life unreservedly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unreservedly...&lt;br /&gt;Only because it's the best way, the only way...&lt;br /&gt;I know how to be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I always had it too easy?&lt;br /&gt;Was the past I thought was hard and sad actually the happy times?&lt;br /&gt;Have I gotten more than my fair share?&lt;br /&gt;More than I deserve?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it now time I gave back all the 'excess' I've received?&lt;br /&gt;Is &lt;em&gt;'my time' &lt;/em&gt;now up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I...?&lt;br /&gt;Is it...?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5756469337092078363?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5756469337092078363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5756469337092078363' title='60 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5756469337092078363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5756469337092078363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/have-i.html' title='Have I...? Is it...?'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>60</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-1290742120304431242</id><published>2009-04-24T13:31:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T13:36:40.558+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meme'/><title type='text'>'C' Meme and some other sturvs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SfGx5fNIrgI/AAAAAAAAAJM/0dUKDeIzSg4/s1600-h/-Cadillac-Cien-Concept.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328235435343261186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SfGx5fNIrgI/AAAAAAAAAJM/0dUKDeIzSg4/s400/-Cadillac-Cien-Concept.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*They have to be real...nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question. * Dont google ur answers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Make it as interesting and fun as you can. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. What is your name: Confessions of a London Gal &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. A four Letter Word: Clit (Enough said) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. A boy's Name: Charles &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. A girl's Name: Cinderella &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. An occupation: Cunning Linguist (No be profession...? Well I think it should be..... Hehehehe)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. A colour: Cappuccino brown (I swear I dint make it up- it’s those Dulux paint people- always using funky names for their paint colours) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Something you'll wear: Cuffs (As in hand cuffs...Go figure!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;No #8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. A food: Chocolate!!!! (In my book it is, I sometimes have it for breakfast lunch AND dinner!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Something found in the bathroom: Condoms (Some people put them in bathrooms, some put them under their pillows- for easy access, and others just wear them at all times! lol) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. A place: CMS (Lagos Island) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. A reason for being late: Cunninlingus (That stuff fit make person late-you know, loose track of time and all) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. Something you'd shout: Crap!! (It’s the last thing I shouted) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. A movie title: Confessions of a Shopaholic (I think the book series beats the film hands down, but there you go!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Something you drink: &lt;a href="http://www.celebrations.com/content/Rocky-Road-Milkshake"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Chunk of &lt;em&gt;Roc&lt;/em&gt;-kie milkshake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Yummy!) (It is a real drink...lol) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. A musical group: Cheeky Girls (2 skinny twins like that- sounded like dying chickens, but the Brits loved them!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. An animal: Chihuahua &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;18. A street name: Confessions Street (I just passed the bill in the House of Parliament cos I deserve to have a street named after me!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. A type of car: Cardillac Cien (O gbono feli feli... You buy me this, I can assure you it’s till death do us part o!) lol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. The title of a song: Crowd Mentality...M.I. (Yeah, I know, I’ve been bitten by the MI bug)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Thought I'd give you guys some serious and mushy quotes to ooohh and ahhh on....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You can't buy love, but you can pay heavily for it. -- Henny Youngman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. There are people who make things happen, there are people who watch things happen, and there are people who wonder what happened. To be successful, you need to be a person who makes things happen. -- Jim Lovell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you love me, let me know. If not, please, gently, let me go. --Unknown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out. --Thomas B. Macaulay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. You're nothing short of my everything. --Ralph Block&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up. --Robert Frost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Thou art to me a delicious torment."--Ralph Waldo Emerson (I especially like this one. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do,something to love, and something to hope for. -- Allan K. Chalmers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else. -- Anonymous&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there. -- Will Rogers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;*CLG*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-1290742120304431242?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/1290742120304431242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=1290742120304431242' title='50 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/1290742120304431242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/1290742120304431242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/c-meme-and-some-other-sturvs.html' title='&apos;C&apos; Meme and some other sturvs'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SfGx5fNIrgI/AAAAAAAAAJM/0dUKDeIzSg4/s72-c/-Cadillac-Cien-Concept.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>50</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8602116291228731536</id><published>2009-04-17T09:30:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T09:54:03.996+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anniversary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daddy'/><title type='text'>I miss you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Seg7ixJhdlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/y946kiqHYbI/s1600-h/i-miss-you-a-lot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325572027860481618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 350px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Seg7ixJhdlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/y946kiqHYbI/s400/i-miss-you-a-lot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been 14 years since I last saw you...&lt;br /&gt;A lot has happened since then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got into High School, then College, and then Uni.&lt;br /&gt;I could just imagine you smiling from &lt;em&gt;above&lt;/em&gt; on my graduation day...&lt;br /&gt;Not believing I could actually stick with it to the end...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everyone knows I was never too crazy about school...&lt;/em&gt; :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember that day as if it was yesterday... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was on an Easter Monday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And people wonder why I am not a fan of Easter?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, &lt;em&gt;Jesus did get to rise up again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum has been really strong for us all.&lt;br /&gt;Without her...?&lt;br /&gt;Really, without her...I dread to think were we would all be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, I’ve thought of you a lot in the past weeks...&lt;br /&gt;Maybe because Y is getting married soon...&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder who is gonna walk her down the aisle...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you Daddy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t remember much about you, like the others do...&lt;br /&gt;But the lil I do, Always puts a smile on my face...&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I smile a lot when I think of you these days...&lt;br /&gt;Even those times you used to make me watch the News and ask&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me to tell you what I learnt as my punishment for being naughty!&lt;br /&gt;I used to hate that! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;All I ever wanted to watch as a kid was “Tales by Moonlight” &amp;amp; “Fuji House of Commotion”!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you...&lt;br /&gt;And once again, I find myself wishing you were still here with us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Anniversary Daddy... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8602116291228731536?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8602116291228731536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8602116291228731536' title='57 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8602116291228731536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8602116291228731536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Seg7ixJhdlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/y946kiqHYbI/s72-c/i-miss-you-a-lot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>57</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-7133255535997718430</id><published>2009-04-15T02:08:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T12:21:41.247+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In his words'/><title type='text'>Us, in his words</title><content type='html'>She sent a pic of three people..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But only she stood out..&lt;br /&gt;Red polo shirt..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toothpaste advert smile..&lt;br /&gt;Long hair caressing her neck..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Which one do u think I am?" she instant messanged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If only JAMB was this easy" I thought to myself, as I pointed her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the night chatting online..&lt;br /&gt;About anything and everything..&lt;br /&gt;"We should hook up someday.." We both said..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had bantered like we'd known each other for years..&lt;br /&gt;Yet we'd just met..&lt;br /&gt;What does one do in such circumstances..?&lt;br /&gt;Shake hands..? Exchange hugs..? Exchange kisses..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of the above..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat at the foot of a staircase &amp;amp; smiled at each other..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I harboured erotic thoughts as I watched her tongue..&lt;br /&gt;Her fingers.. Her body..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pleasures I could give it..&lt;br /&gt;The pleasures it could give me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feared speaking out loud..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my thoughts spoke in reverse..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to hear you gasp as you come..&lt;br /&gt;Feel your fingers caress my back as I go deeper..&lt;br /&gt;I want to make love to you softly &amp;amp; gently..&lt;br /&gt;Discover the parts of you that make your body tingle..&lt;br /&gt;Peel your clothes off &amp;amp; taste your nipples..&lt;br /&gt;I want to carry you up these stairs right now..&lt;br /&gt;I feel like kissing you.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have said the last line out loud..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cos she smiled and looked away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;P.S. This is a post on the 1st time we met but, &lt;em&gt;in his words...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;P.P.S. &lt;em&gt;Ask me no questions, I'd tell you no lies... :-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;P.P.P.S. You shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever... :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-7133255535997718430?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/7133255535997718430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=7133255535997718430' title='67 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7133255535997718430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7133255535997718430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/us-in-his-words.html' title='Us, in his words'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>67</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-6281675147543806133</id><published>2009-04-10T06:59:00.019+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T08:12:56.357+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shower'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oshodi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boobs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Easter'/><title type='text'>Boobies, Oshodi &amp; Cakes....</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Talk about totally random...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be my 1st &lt;em&gt;concsiously constructed &lt;/em&gt;random post...Although I know some of you will beg to differ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7gp3ltwSI/AAAAAAAAAH0/3bIvPac41eg/s1600-h/2779_156520125011_733035011_6342332_4759391_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322938819499901218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7gp3ltwSI/AAAAAAAAAH0/3bIvPac41eg/s400/2779_156520125011_733035011_6342332_4759391_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See the children of nowadays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although given the choice wont we all wanna have a 36DD breast mummy, surely the food will come out quicker or even better still &lt;em&gt;sweeter? lol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322940135344707026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 510px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7h2dfkFdI/AAAAAAAAAH8/43yo_oT6Kzg/s400/Oshodi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heard about how Governor Fashola as really 'tushed' up Lagos now...surely we can hope it will get to the stage above, abi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minute it does, someone please let me know so I can move back to Lasgidi! Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322944173193211666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7lhfpqrxI/AAAAAAAAAIE/6o4wCZOAU7Y/s400/My+Pics+240.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Planning a Suprise Baby Shower for one of me besties for tommorrow and what's a shower without a Pregnant Mummy Cake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I havent made this kinda cake before actually...But for a special friend, I had to make a special cake...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....So this is my 1st try of the 'Yummy Mummy Cake' so go easy on me. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322946638037991586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 428px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7nw96dQKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/98VuaBuCLvY/s400/My+Pics+244.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cute lil sleeping pink baby...Yes- she's having a girl! I love lil girls!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322947004561673554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 422px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7oGTUgzVI/AAAAAAAAAIU/0mmsQAsFpMo/s400/My+Pics+246.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ok, so I didn't have to make 2 cakes for the shower...But I just couldnt resist! :o)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Made these cakes and 2 others yesterday- reason I couldnt do my Blog stalking parole....But I am sooooo back on as from today!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Easter everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-6281675147543806133?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/6281675147543806133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=6281675147543806133' title='49 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6281675147543806133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6281675147543806133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/boobies-oshodi-cakes.html' title='Boobies, Oshodi &amp; Cakes....'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sd7gp3ltwSI/AAAAAAAAAH0/3bIvPac41eg/s72-c/2779_156520125011_733035011_6342332_4759391_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>49</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5755350006673760433</id><published>2009-04-05T01:06:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T06:21:01.006+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Browns&apos;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bitch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Run'/><title type='text'>Run Bitch, Run!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sdf2Nsl6W1I/AAAAAAAAAHs/dPsjR1NNt2U/s1600-h/2646_58570019669_567784669_1402034_4666563_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320992199930436434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 521px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sdf2Nsl6W1I/AAAAAAAAAHs/dPsjR1NNt2U/s400/2646_58570019669_567784669_1402034_4666563_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tried to sleep....Couldn't....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tried to read...Couldnt concentrate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tried to listen to some music, CD kept skipping....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wonder what's up.... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decided to give you guys a lil sumt'n sumt'n to make you &lt;em&gt;smile&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Enjoy what's left of the weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sdf2EpzcY3I/AAAAAAAAAHk/zuwL_9Ombbw/s1600-h/2646_58570019669_567784669_1402034_4666563_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5755350006673760433?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5755350006673760433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5755350006673760433' title='56 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5755350006673760433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5755350006673760433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/04/run-bitch-run.html' title='Run Bitch, Run!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sdf2Nsl6W1I/AAAAAAAAAHs/dPsjR1NNt2U/s72-c/2646_58570019669_567784669_1402034_4666563_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>56</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-639423977149412607</id><published>2009-03-30T18:26:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T19:53:31.358+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Romance...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SdEU3PjD9KI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_mnUcYFWuHA/s1600-h/RomanticMoments2x2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319055574200218786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SdEU3PjD9KI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_mnUcYFWuHA/s400/RomanticMoments2x2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it just me, or is romance an important factor in a relationship for everyone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When people ask me what the most important thing in a relationship for me is, I never have to think about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just rolls off my tongue...Romance!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without it, I get bored, without it, doubts sets in for me (I dunno why, it just does)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesnt mean love isnt important, because it damn well is. But you cannot teach a man or woman how to love you, he /she's gotta get to that stage by themself, but you sure can teach someone to be romantic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You dont have to 'school' them on it, if you want romantic things done to you, you do romantic things to your partner and they most likely will reciprocate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the most mistakes women especially make is linking romance to money, there are many romantic things that a man can do for a woman that does not even require a penny being spent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man paying your rent is not romance, its an act of kindness, your man remembering to buy you a gift on your birthday is not romance, he really shouldnt be forgetting in the 1st place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man getting you a gift when its not your birthday, christmas, vals day or your anniversary, A man getting you a gift, 'just because' is what I classify as romance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Because he didnt have to, but he did. He didnt wait to be asked, but because he knows it would be sure to put a smile on your face, he did it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being romantic shows me that the person in question not only thinks about me when I am with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Romantic love reaches out in little ways, showing attention and admiration. Romantic love remembers what pleases a woman, what excites her, and what surprises her. Its actions whisper: you are the most special person in my life. ~ by Charles Stanley.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a sucker for romance, I always have been and I bet I always will be...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Text messages telling me how he feels about me', ‘Opening my bag and finding a note from him….’, ‘Calling me just to find out if I have had lunch’, ‘Having flowers delivered to me at work or at home’....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....For me, its the little things that does it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blogville,&lt;br /&gt;...What is the most romantic thing you've ever done?&lt;br /&gt;...What is the most romantic thing ever done for you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you have to answer, right? :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me... (knowing y'all expect me to start 1st)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most romantic things ever done for me happened quite recently...&lt;br /&gt;Flowers and chocs delivered at work...he didnt have to, he just did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....As I said earlier, for me, it really is the little unexpected things that seals it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-639423977149412607?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/639423977149412607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=639423977149412607' title='60 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/639423977149412607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/639423977149412607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/romance.html' title='Romance...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SdEU3PjD9KI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_mnUcYFWuHA/s72-c/RomanticMoments2x2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>60</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8953392719742592229</id><published>2009-03-25T06:01:00.011Z</published><updated>2009-03-25T13:40:00.525Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Honest meme'/><title type='text'>Firsssssssssttttttt !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/ScnJG4yWAlI/AAAAAAAAAGc/6jYUF7j5TuQ/s1600-h/blog_award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317001955247522386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/ScnJG4yWAlI/AAAAAAAAAGc/6jYUF7j5TuQ/s400/blog_award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have just done a 40 things about me meme, but as &lt;a href="http://gangstatigeress.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Tigress&lt;/a&gt; as tagged me on this and refuses to let me escape it... here goes nothing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I like to have a laugh and make people around me relaxed. I may not smile at all times, but when I am around my peeps, you cant stop the laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Although i hate people fussing over me, the only person that is allowed to (in fact its a must) is whoever I am dating. Dunno the reason for this exclusion, I just know I find it sexy when a boyfriend shows concern....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. These days, I find that I dont have the zeal to argue anymore. I just say yes or no to things and keep quiet about it, if the person likes, they can continue to argue by themselves and we'll see who looks like a were (mad person) hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When I say "No" to something, I really do mean "No", so dont hold your breathe thinking if you beg, Confessions may change her mind. It aint gonna happen. Unless of cos you know the right buttons to push....(Good luck finding that out)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I loooooove cuddles and kisses and touchey feeley boyfriends... but i hate touchey feeley friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.I am thinking of going back to Uni for a Law conversion course, but I can only do part-time cos how else I go chop bele full if I cant work full time? I may not carry this out sha and may just end up doing my other choice- Msc in Computer Forensics (I know 2 entirely different courses, especially as I even studied Applied Economics &amp;amp; Business for Undergrad), but na were money dey I dey move to these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. No matter how many degrees I have I WILL STILL have a cake shop (God willing sooner than later), no doubt about that. The degrees are only for back ups. I dunno why I keep saying degree(s) considering I only have my undergrad. hehehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I'm not exactly a girly girl. Most times you would find me in Polos and T-shirts and my makeup bag consists of my Mac Powder and my Lancome lip gloss. Finito. Once in a while, I dabble in eye shadows but dont bother giving me anything else cos I wouldn't know wat to do with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. That said, I do loooove me my heels.... (&lt;a href="http://shonavixen.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;ShonaVixen&lt;/a&gt;, dont think I have forgotten my Jimmy Choos o! and even you sef &lt;a href="http://dbthinks.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Bagucci&lt;/a&gt;- ps I may even allow you guys get away with giving me the e-version, credit crunch situation and all)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I am impulsive. Sometimes too impulsive. My wardrobe is filled with clothes that still have tags on them and you will still hear me saying, "I dont have clothes o! I need clothes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I'm gonna marry &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anderson_Lu%C3%ADs_de_Abreu_Oliveira" target="_blank"&gt;Oliveria Luís de Abreu Anderson&lt;/a&gt; (just waiting for him to grow up reach me- I'm holding off on growing up for him *Things we do for :&lt;strike&gt;money&lt;/strike&gt; love*) and my 1st job as a Wag will be to hook &lt;a href="http://fieryandsweet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Buttercup&lt;/a&gt; up with &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cristiano_Ronaldo" target="_blank"&gt;Cristiano Ronaldo&lt;/a&gt; *shhh, we are trying to keep it a secret from &lt;a href="http://fieryandsweet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Chari&lt;/a&gt;*....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I dont do rules. I do have a mental copy of the rule book, but alas, its never been used. Hence the reason why I have a dozen points even though the rules stated 10. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hereby tag my new blogging paddies &lt;a href="http://www.rocnaija.com/feeds/posts/default"&gt;The man who once gave me an e-kiss of life&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://bachelorsconundrum.blogspot.com/"&gt;The man who wants me to be a nurse to his sick soul&lt;/a&gt; :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I dont believe I could find 10 more things to say about myself! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. I will not stop screaming 1st on ppl's blog, to those ppl who no like am, thats ur ish, so you deal with it! Or better still commot face wen u see Confessions shouting 1st! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.P.S Dont u just like saying PPPS? Lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8953392719742592229?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8953392719742592229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8953392719742592229' title='62 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8953392719742592229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8953392719742592229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/firsssssssssttttttt.html' title='Firsssssssssttttttt !!!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/ScnJG4yWAlI/AAAAAAAAAGc/6jYUF7j5TuQ/s72-c/blog_award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>62</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-6071076779848580165</id><published>2009-03-20T18:21:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T18:29:03.136Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><title type='text'>The Silent Treatment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/ScPgQdZvGBI/AAAAAAAAAGU/x9IpVmgQMkk/s1600-h/jlvn649l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315338558602418194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 377px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/ScPgQdZvGBI/AAAAAAAAAGU/x9IpVmgQMkk/s400/jlvn649l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment. Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him at 5:00 AM for an early morning business flight. Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper, "Please wake me at 5:00 AM." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;He left it where he knew she would find it.The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and he had missed his flight. Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn't wakened him, when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed. The paper said, "It is 5:00 AM. Wake up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Moral of the story...? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Men are not equipped for these kinds of contests.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;God may have created man before woman, but there is always a rough draft before the masterpiece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;P.S. New Template....Keep or ditch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-6071076779848580165?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/6071076779848580165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=6071076779848580165' title='65 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6071076779848580165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6071076779848580165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/silent-treatment.html' title='The Silent Treatment'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/ScPgQdZvGBI/AAAAAAAAAGU/x9IpVmgQMkk/s72-c/jlvn649l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>65</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-744420058659117751</id><published>2009-03-15T14:58:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:11:57.473Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Actions'/><title type='text'>4 things that cannot be recovered....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sb0X2owp9MI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/4W5xWduTaEc/s1600-h/thinkb4-act.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313429362788922562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sb0X2owp9MI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/4W5xWduTaEc/s400/thinkb4-act.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;1. The stone...after the throw &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;2. The words....after its been said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;3. The occassion...after its been missed &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;4. Time....after its passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everything you are about to do, think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-744420058659117751?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/744420058659117751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=744420058659117751' title='91 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/744420058659117751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/744420058659117751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/4-things-that-cannot-be-recovered_15.html' title='4 things that cannot be recovered....'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/Sb0X2owp9MI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/4W5xWduTaEc/s72-c/thinkb4-act.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>91</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8833663348587355311</id><published>2009-03-10T19:17:00.016Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:12:39.484Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='About me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confessions'/><title type='text'>Confession's Confessions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SbmGS3xv2II/AAAAAAAAAFA/imYYipj4JxI/s1600-h/trendy-wendy-its-all-about-me-poster-c10136617.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312424894228584578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SbmGS3xv2II/AAAAAAAAAFA/imYYipj4JxI/s400/trendy-wendy-its-all-about-me-poster-c10136617.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Got this idea from the one and only Don Danny Bagucci...since none of u yeye bloggers have tagged me for one of these memes, I decided to tag myself!!! lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here goes nothing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have worn glasses since I was a kid- I think I was around 5 or so then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Because I am very strong willed, people don’t believe that I could be emotional- but I really am an emotional person and I take things personal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am not really a leftie, but I have always eaten with my left hand- could be because of my love for lefties, dunno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I get angry easily, but I forget the reason why I got angry, so I end up being mad without knowing why!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I forgive almost as quickly as I get angry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I obsess about things, but the minute I deal with it or know were the situation stands, I forget about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I do not joke with my immediate family and friends, without them, I really don’t know were I’ll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I started living by myself at the age of 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have 4 mobile phones! It’s stupid and excessive, I know, but I don’t know which one to give up- I use all four!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;If I want to diet, all I have to do is avoid eating normal food (e.g. rice, noodles etc) and eat only chocolates- and in less than a week I could drop at least 4kg. No joke!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am sort of a living contradiction. i.e. I am really terrified of heights, but I go on the scariest and highest rides at parks, I hate flying but I always sit next to the window- which is silly seeing that I am scared of heights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am allergic to coconut and beans- My body itches and starts to peel- seriously! If I take milk almost immediately, I may be lucky and get away with only the itching, but if not, I normally have to take an allergy shot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I hate drinking water. Last time I did was maybe a year ago, i cant even remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am so not a ‘beat around the bush’ kinda person…if I want something, I say it, I don’t wait to be asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I like to cook, but I’ll only cook for someone else, if I cook, I end up not eating the food- dunno why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I do not like parties and noise- although I think this is mainly because I can’t dance to save my life!!! Lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I hardly ever smile, I don’t know why; I just don’t…although I suspect it may be a defence mechanism, but the funny thing is, in every picture I take, I am all smiles!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am the youngest in my family- but for some reason, some people don’t believe that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I work in Finance, but because I also make birthday, wedding cakes etc, people automatically assume I work in a bakery!!! Having said that, I am hoping I would have my cake shop within a couple of years (God willing and credit crunch allowing , of course! lol).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;After Uni, I went to 8 different cake schools to learn everything there was to know about baking and decorating!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am very time-conscious and I really do hate being kept waiting- unfortunately, ALL of my close friends are really rubbish at being punctual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am going to be a MoH (Maid of Honour) later this year as my sister is getting married! I have even started practicing my poses for the pictures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I went to 3 different secondary schools and I got suspended from the last! Lol…It wasn’t my fault…see post … &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-letter-suspension.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Confessions gets Suspended&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have very long hair, but I don’t like it, (seriously) so I always have extensions on- anything is fine so far my real hair is covered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I am a ‘wear your heart on your sleeve’ kinda girl- I just believe in giving a 100% in everything I do…so far, I am yet to regret it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I don’t mind people exhibiting PDA (Public Display of Affection), but it’s very annoying to watch when you are single. Pschew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;The one and only motto I have always lived by is “If the worst comes to the worst, would It have been worth it”….I think of this before I do something I am not sure I should be doing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;My fave kinda songs are country, soul, soft rock, ballads- some people tell me I don’t look like someone that listens to those, I dint know there was a certain look that goes with the songs! Pschew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I don’t like money (seriously- stop rolling ur eyes!!! Lol), I have only ever had enough to be comfortable- and I have never wanted any more. I really do think it brings as much problems as it solves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I get used to things quickly and I do not like change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have 2 god sons and a god daughter on the way! Can’t wait! I love babies…I cry when I see a cute one (Now, you’re gonna ask me ‘are all babies not cute?!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I eat slow...real slow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I only ever cry for ‘silly’ things, like seeing a cute baby, a scene in a movie, a book etc, but I hardly ever cry for serious things. If I do, it’s because I am about to cut that thing out of my life. At least, that’s the pattern till date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I hate people seeing me cry. My closest friend and I have known each other for at least 20 years and she’s only ever seen me cry once or twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I really do not like people worrying over me. If I say, I’ve got something covered; it’s simply because I have got it covered. (P.S. My ex really hated this about me…lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Good command of English is more important than looks for me when it comes to dating a guy- that don’t mean I would date monkey o!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I think a bit of jealousy is healthy in relationship, but I so cannot stand people that take it to the extreme and expect you to cut off your friends for them!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;My greatest fear is being mediocre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I made this list on work time. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;My list is longer than yours &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://raz9ijaboi.blogspot.com/2009/03/25-random-things-meme.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Danny Bagucci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;!!!! (Don’t insult me o! lol!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8833663348587355311?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8833663348587355311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8833663348587355311' title='54 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8833663348587355311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8833663348587355311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/confessions-confessions.html' title='Confession&apos;s Confessions'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SbmGS3xv2II/AAAAAAAAAFA/imYYipj4JxI/s72-c/trendy-wendy-its-all-about-me-poster-c10136617.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>54</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5839203475734174954</id><published>2009-03-08T15:17:00.012Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:13:50.599Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being single'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Butterflies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pimping'/><title type='text'>Do I need a Man?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SbPzjoVP0BI/AAAAAAAAAE4/HCp-Ufi8m9o/s1600-h/mi6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310856179047452690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SbPzjoVP0BI/AAAAAAAAAE4/HCp-Ufi8m9o/s400/mi6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Why do everybody think they have the right to give your number to their boyfriend's single friend because you are single???!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;If one more stranger calls me telling me- my name is "A, I'm B's (your friend C's boyfriend) friend- then heads will roll!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Some really annoying people have been calling me these days, and my friends no matter what I say, dont relent in giving my number out! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;The latest friend that tried to pimp me up, said (and I quote) "You being single is like a waste, how do you cope, dont you feel lonely?!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Thing is, no one told me that being single is like a medical condition that needed coping with, fact that I am alone doesnt mean I am lonely!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Common mistake women make is thinking they need a man to rectify their exsistence, or that maybe the reason they are still single is because they are too wild and they need a man to tame them, what they do not realise is that maybe, they aren't meant to be tamed, maybe they just need to run free till they find someone just as wild to run with them....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Dont get me wrong o, it's not like I dont want a man, it's just that I dont want a man for the reasons she stated that I should want one for!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;When she made that above statement, I immediately thought of my favourite phrase from Sex &amp;amp; the City.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;....."Some people are settling down, some people are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;P.S. Padosh can you pls stop privatising your blog??!! How do you expect me to survive??!! I am trying to live life vicraciously through you!!! lol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;P.P.S. As some of you wanted to know the name I finally decided on for my godson....I chose Omotoniola- Toniola or Tony as the short form (it means a child that has wealth)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5839203475734174954?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5839203475734174954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5839203475734174954' title='40 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5839203475734174954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5839203475734174954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/do-i-need-man.html' title='Do I need a Man?'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SbPzjoVP0BI/AAAAAAAAAE4/HCp-Ufi8m9o/s72-c/mi6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>40</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3666290629520604694</id><published>2009-03-02T11:10:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:14:26.431Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='god mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Names'/><title type='text'>Yoruba or English Names...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SavAFHhfvqI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bPCFIrElLC4/s1600-h/baby-240-g-dv780027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308547779937681058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SavAFHhfvqI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bPCFIrElLC4/s400/baby-240-g-dv780027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;My best friend's just had her second son and your's truly has been asked to be the godmother again! She and her husband have asked me to think of a name i would like to give their son and all the names i have come up with just dont seem right...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;So, Blogsville, I need you guys help in coming up with names...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;P.S. They are yoruba people, hence the reason I need Yoruba or English names.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;P.P.S. Deadline is Wednesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;P.P.P.S. Please remember to say the meaning of the name you suggest...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Thanks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3666290629520604694?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3666290629520604694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3666290629520604694' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3666290629520604694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3666290629520604694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/03/yoruba-or-english-names.html' title='Yoruba or English Names...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SavAFHhfvqI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bPCFIrElLC4/s72-c/baby-240-g-dv780027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-7625208953227862771</id><published>2009-02-24T12:17:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:15:08.714Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Break ups'/><title type='text'>Break-ups...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Is there a ‘good’ way to break up with someone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;You are about to leave behind years of a relationship with someone, (for lack of a better word) is there a politically correct way to do it?&lt;br /&gt;Do you send an email, a text (Britney and Kevin Federline style), a phone call (Simon Cowell and Terri Seymour style) or do you do it in person?&lt;br /&gt;Bare in mind there are different scenarios, the guy or even the girl (before I get accused of being sexist…lol) may be abusive, so to avoid being beaten up, do you take the electronic route and do it via text, phone call or email? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Just to clarify on some comments- This matter came up just this morning- one of my friends that really hates her manager just called me to tell me that they delivered a massive bunch of flowers at her work place for the manager, and everyone sort of rallied around her to read the note that came with it thinking it would be something very romantic and apparently, the note said and i quote "I'm sorry, but I cant- it's best we call it off now than end up hating each other years down the line"! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;It just got me thinking that there really is no good way to leave someone, cos when my friend told me, 1st thing i said was "The bastard!", but i then thought again, that if the lady got home and found her things on the stairs, I would still say "The bastard!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;So really, this begs the question, is there a good way to get a bad thing done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogsville, what is the most bizarre way you have dumped or been dumped…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-7625208953227862771?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/7625208953227862771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=7625208953227862771' title='48 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7625208953227862771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7625208953227862771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/02/break-ups.html' title='Break-ups...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>48</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5511409308333470348</id><published>2009-02-22T16:44:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-22T20:48:59.249Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='African Idol'/><title type='text'>This hasnt stopped cracking me up! (African Idol)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5511409308333470348?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqRvg3TAfk' title='This hasnt stopped cracking me up! (African Idol)'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5511409308333470348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5511409308333470348' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5511409308333470348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5511409308333470348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-hasnt-stopped-cracking-me-up.html' title='This hasnt stopped cracking me up! (African Idol)'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-1765379983379507020</id><published>2009-02-22T08:02:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:16:38.481Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mediocre'/><title type='text'>Mediocre...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SaEQz6gCzVI/AAAAAAAAAEM/sbTmR-QpH8M/s1600-h/Mediocre_Definition_NEGATIVE_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305540320082185554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SaEQz6gCzVI/AAAAAAAAAEM/sbTmR-QpH8M/s400/Mediocre_Definition_NEGATIVE_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Mediocre.......Average, Ordinary, Second-rate, Un-exceptional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;One of my greatest fears in life is being mediocre...In fact, I can honestly say apart from my fear of heights, my only other phobia is that of being mediocre.&lt;br /&gt;It doesnt matter what other people think, if i dont achieve the targets i aspire towards, I go hard on myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a perfectionist in some (note that i said some) aspects of my life......mainly because there are some times that not attaining perfection is not even an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One cant always be perfect and one cant always attain perfection, but i like to know that on the rare occasions it happens, my inability to attain perfection is not because i did not &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to, its because i tried my best but somebody else at that time was better than me. If i am gonna suck at something, then i have got to suck with integrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take falling in love for example, I happen to think that there are too many mediocre things in life to deal with, and love definitely shouldnt be one of them. I am realistic enough to know there is no such thing as a perfect guy, but i am also optimistic enough to know that for every being, God has created a man that 'rhymes' with the person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes being perfect or having consistent perfection can become too boring and predictable so being mediocre is not &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; a bad thing, but i have never been a 'settle for less than you deserve kinda gal'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as i like to say, anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary is a waste of my time! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-1765379983379507020?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/1765379983379507020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=1765379983379507020' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/1765379983379507020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/1765379983379507020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/02/mediocre.html' title='Mediocre...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SaEQz6gCzVI/AAAAAAAAAEM/sbTmR-QpH8M/s72-c/Mediocre_Definition_NEGATIVE_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-8333838182275045955</id><published>2009-02-15T10:06:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:18:30.966Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentine'/><title type='text'>Vals Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SZfrvFMlmYI/AAAAAAAAAEE/hH9yiEDOdUg/s1600-h/valentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SZfru0QlrBI/AAAAAAAAAD8/hg8Lp12DDGY/s1600-h/valentines_day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302966275786779666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 353px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SZfru0QlrBI/AAAAAAAAAD8/hg8Lp12DDGY/s400/valentines_day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;So I spent the day at home doing nothing but baking valentines day cakes for guys that wanted to give to their girlfriends- (I had a guy call me for 3 cakes- 1 for his wife and 2 for his girl friends!!!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Lets not forget the time i spent arguing with AOL about why my internet as not been working for almost a week now! they finally got things fixed today-about time! Its times like this that makes me realise how addicted i am to the internet-i cant even remember how life was b4 it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I tried not to go out cos frankly seeing red and white evrywere was starting 2 drive me crazy...It made me remember wat i was doing last year- my ex and i went to a spa hotel in Hayling Island- very beautiful...the masseuse there had the hands of an angel- and the body of a Greek god!! it was d 1st time i wud sleep off whilst getting a massage!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;But the funny thing is- in as much as i had crazy fun and i miss those times I am glad I am alone by myself instead of being with the wrong person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-8333838182275045955?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/8333838182275045955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=8333838182275045955' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8333838182275045955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/8333838182275045955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/02/vals-day.html' title='Vals Day'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SZfru0QlrBI/AAAAAAAAAD8/hg8Lp12DDGY/s72-c/valentines_day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5165101504626419059</id><published>2009-02-02T23:58:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:18:54.678Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Snow'/><title type='text'>Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;It snowed like mad today...I am not talking about the lil type that we get every now and then in London, I am talking about proper snow that had the whole of London on lock down!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I cant remember being happy about anything in a long time- in the sense that I dint go to work and i dont have to tell lil white lies about being sick cos NOBODY went to work!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were no buses, trains were cancelled, the few train lines that were working were having crazy delays but i dint have to go through all that cos when i wasnt cuddled under my warm duvet sipping my hot strawberry tea I was out in my garden taking pictures and building snowmen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should snow everyday!!! I love the snow especially if it means i dont have to go to work!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Snow or no snow- I aint going tommorrow either!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5165101504626419059?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5165101504626419059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5165101504626419059' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5165101504626419059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5165101504626419059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/02/snow.html' title='Snow'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3473738448305999687</id><published>2009-01-01T12:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-01T17:02:04.982Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVzAL8mDfBI/AAAAAAAAADc/39Qc5dRg9AU/s1600-h/happy-new-year-wallpaper-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286311374102952978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVzAL8mDfBI/AAAAAAAAADc/39Qc5dRg9AU/s400/happy-new-year-wallpaper-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVzALx31LnI/AAAAAAAAADU/OeaID_hYi04/s1600-h/HappyNewYear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286311371224723058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVzALx31LnI/AAAAAAAAADU/OeaID_hYi04/s400/HappyNewYear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I dont do new year resolutions simply because I dont see the reason to. I know I wont stick to it, so why bother?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;However, I do have wishes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Here's wishing that all my heartfelt desires will come through in 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Here's wishing all of 2008 misfortunes will not re-occur in 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Here's hoping that in 2009, I dont get everything I pray for, I only get the things God knows I am big enough and ready to handle...There is such a thing as a misplaced blessing afterall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Here's to a successful, wonderful and prosperous new year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Happy 2009 Blogsville!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3473738448305999687?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3473738448305999687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3473738448305999687' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3473738448305999687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3473738448305999687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVzAL8mDfBI/AAAAAAAAADc/39Qc5dRg9AU/s72-c/happy-new-year-wallpaper-thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-7520686579357627957</id><published>2008-12-25T08:32:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-25T08:45:44.603Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Merry xmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Xmas Wish List'/><title type='text'>Merry Xmas Blogsville</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVNIGwhttcI/AAAAAAAAADM/tdqZul5_o7M/s1600-h/c9d69f856f0f4c534bfec23ea8b33521.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283646068778448322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 380px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVNIGwhttcI/AAAAAAAAADM/tdqZul5_o7M/s400/c9d69f856f0f4c534bfec23ea8b33521.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVNFTi_MxrI/AAAAAAAAADE/b89QIFZ48Vc/s1600-h/christmas-sexy6.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283642989947438770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVNFTi_MxrI/AAAAAAAAADE/b89QIFZ48Vc/s400/christmas-sexy6.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"&gt; MERRY XMAS BLOGSVILLE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-7520686579357627957?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/7520686579357627957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=7520686579357627957' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7520686579357627957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/7520686579357627957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-xmas-blogsville.html' title='Merry Xmas Blogsville'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SVNIGwhttcI/AAAAAAAAADM/tdqZul5_o7M/s72-c/c9d69f856f0f4c534bfec23ea8b33521.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-4825862422428258760</id><published>2008-12-10T22:41:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T23:06:37.927Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Superdrug'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Secret Santa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Credit Crunch'/><title type='text'>Secret Santa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SUBLYWvQpnI/AAAAAAAAAC8/U5oJgWPVnBs/s1600-h/51iGV%252BD0SzL__SL500_AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278301645070968434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 345px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SUBLYWvQpnI/AAAAAAAAAC8/U5oJgWPVnBs/s400/51iGV%252BD0SzL__SL500_AA240_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;At work, we are supposed to be buying a gift for another person- 'Secret Santa' (you choose a random name from a hat) and you buy that person a gift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Thing is they set a £10 limit. £10!!! And my manager kept on going about how it wasnt worth it to spend more than £10 on the person you are buying for cos the person buying for you would most likely even spend less!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now what the hell am i gonna buy with £10 with this crazy credit crunch, everything is more expensive these days and £10 cant buy anything sensible...At least thats what I thought!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now, bearing in mind that the rules are 1. No chocolates-too typical, 2.No bottle of wine- anybody can buy that themselves, 3. No bodybath gift sets- no one here smells!.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Left work early, went to Marble Arch (I work in Paddington) so its only 10 mins away on the bus, went into the 1st store right in front of the bus stop- Superdrug, dont even know why I went there (actually i think its bcos they had a very lovely xmas tree and i wanted to take a pic of it so i could copy it for my tree at home!) and you wouldnt believe it! I bought some facial spa thingy, and some manicure and pedicure foot spa- and it all fell just under £10!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I swear i sort of like this credit crunch wahala o cos some of these stores are going crazily cheap!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I just hope the girl likes the things i got- and if she doesnt se bi na gift, i no charge am, so wetin?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;On another note, I'm soooo looking forward to going to Tracy Chapman's concert next week- I love the woman die!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-4825862422428258760?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/4825862422428258760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=4825862422428258760' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/4825862422428258760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/4825862422428258760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/12/secret-santa.html' title='Secret Santa'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SUBLYWvQpnI/AAAAAAAAAC8/U5oJgWPVnBs/s72-c/51iGV%252BD0SzL__SL500_AA240_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5435788851713836824</id><published>2008-11-28T20:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-28T22:21:45.907Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><title type='text'>Post-Birthday Syndrome...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/STBtWvpRQcI/AAAAAAAAAC0/KbyLWdXxXMY/s1600-h/SDC10348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273835401164964290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/STBtWvpRQcI/AAAAAAAAAC0/KbyLWdXxXMY/s400/SDC10348.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ok so now its official- I hate Novemeber 25!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;You know how it is on your birthday...your phone doesnt stop ringing, constant incoming text messages and voicemails, people sending you constant Facebook messages and writing on your wall...and then come the day after...you are forgotten! I think there should be a rule against that! I think people should call you after your birthday and still wish you 'happy day after birthday'...lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ok, so I had a very good day...Monday was my actual birthday, but most of my friends and family were going to work on that day so on Sunday we all went out to a Chinese buffet in 02- North Greenwich, it was fun sha...I baked a Playboy bunny cake for moi (Not sure i mentioned it b4...but i bake birthdays, wedding, engagement cakes etc) and we had that at the restaurant! But i cant put the picture on here cos it has my name on the cake...sorry guys! BUT I made a lil 'purse' cake (the one above) to take to work the next day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;To all you guys that wished me happy birthday- many thanks, you made me feel extra special!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;On another topic...guess who's got a 'toaster'! and that I actually do like as well...that hasn't happened in some time (me liking someone enough to consider them)...Me thinks something 'interesting' is about to happen...I'll break it down for you guys some other time- story for another day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;...Fingers crossed on this one...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5435788851713836824?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5435788851713836824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5435788851713836824' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5435788851713836824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5435788851713836824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/11/post-birthday-syndrome.html' title='Post-Birthday Syndrome...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/STBtWvpRQcI/AAAAAAAAAC0/KbyLWdXxXMY/s72-c/SDC10348.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-6050630203975067325</id><published>2008-11-24T09:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-24T09:20:55.227Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to me!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Just came to wish myself a Happy Birthday!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I would be back later with a proper post!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-6050630203975067325?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/6050630203975067325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=6050630203975067325' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6050630203975067325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6050630203975067325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to me!!!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3980445839107365425</id><published>2008-11-19T14:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-19T14:51:42.609Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken Laptop'/><title type='text'>Me sad...Me sooo sad!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;My Laptop had been giving me a serious migraine for some time now, 1 min it’s charging, the next minute its dead. I have had to keep holding the charger behind constantly just so that it can keep charging! After like a couple of weeks of this, it finally gave up on me and wouldn’t charge anymore!! I had to resort to using my XDA to surf the net or wait till I got t work. It was at this time I realised that I am a freak…an internet freak (get ur dirty minds outta d gutter)!! My phone, big as it is, is not exactly the same as a computer man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am blogging at work and I have to keep minimising the page every time my manager walks past, I no know what she dey find sef!&lt;br /&gt;I have had to order for a new laptop cos when I tried to find places were I could get it fixed the amount they were requesting is ‘gagas’! Why should I pay over £200 to fix a laptop charging pin? How much them dey sell new laptops these days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad news is there goes the 42” LCD I was gonna buy me as my birthday present! (I no get money to buy laptop and LCD…except I rob bank) Good news is I would have a new laptop before the end of the week…Yippee!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3980445839107365425?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3980445839107365425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3980445839107365425' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3980445839107365425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3980445839107365425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/11/me-sadme-sooo-sad.html' title='Me sad...Me sooo sad!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-5167129512816199503</id><published>2008-11-06T20:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-06T21:00:24.910Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thankyou'/><title type='text'>Thank you</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SRNaYm8JS8I/AAAAAAAAACc/R9k6qAMjXug/s1600-h/Marian+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265651768142416834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SRNaYm8JS8I/AAAAAAAAACc/R9k6qAMjXug/s400/Marian+059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It’s astounding how people you have never seen before can sometimes be more understanding than close friends and even family.&lt;br /&gt;I doubt I can explain how touched I feel when I think of the responses I got when I posted my last post. The main reason I started a blog was to create an oasis for myself. A place were I could rant, be happy, disclose secrets that I didn’t want my friends and family to be aware of but that I needed other people’s opinions or views on.&lt;br /&gt;For all those that left kind words and tried to cheer me out of my “black” mood, this one’s for you.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S Yes…I’m in a better frame of mind…what with Barack Obama winning-how can I not be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;P.P.S …It’s my birthday in a couple of weeks…looking forward to unwrapping me pressies…yippee!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-5167129512816199503?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/5167129512816199503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=5167129512816199503' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5167129512816199503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/5167129512816199503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/11/thank-you.html' title='Thank you'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SRNaYm8JS8I/AAAAAAAAACc/R9k6qAMjXug/s72-c/Marian+059.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3093064635462672718</id><published>2008-10-26T18:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:04:35.485Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Incomplete'/><title type='text'>Incomplete...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SQS-gWZp6rI/AAAAAAAAACE/zcXwvra1S_8/s1600-h/18272.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261539727653857970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 398px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SQS-gWZp6rI/AAAAAAAAACE/zcXwvra1S_8/s400/18272.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I wonder why it is I feel incomplete...This is a feeling that has floated around me for over 6 months...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I wanted a better job, I got it, I fell outta love (amongst other things) with my ex and I dumped him, I wanted a bigger house, I got it, the other minute things I also wanted, I got...Still yet, I feel incomplete...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I feel incomplete, empty, like I'm all alone and because I dont know why, I dont know how to deal with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Why do I feel like a vital part of me, the last slot to complete my puzzle is missing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3093064635462672718?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3093064635462672718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3093064635462672718' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3093064635462672718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3093064635462672718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/10/incomplete.html' title='Incomplete...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SQS-gWZp6rI/AAAAAAAAACE/zcXwvra1S_8/s72-c/18272.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-1268364668129792063</id><published>2008-10-19T21:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:48:31.555+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wedding'/><title type='text'>Shopping for nothing!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I havent blogged in a while- I havent been particularly busy- although I have started a new job (which pays good money...finally!) but I guess i havent had very much to blog about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Went for a friend's wedding this Saturday- I even forgot it was this weekend- so when another friend called me to remind me on Friday, I called one of my "shopping buddies" had to go buy a dress that screamed "Single gal", dragged the poor gal to Oxford street a few hours before the wedding- got a nice looking dress, we came back to my house to get changed and then we went for the Wedding- as soon as we got there, I knew all my 'lalakoko' will be going to waste! The hall was so tiny- no space to sit and we had to stand up all through! I dint even mind about that cos the food made up for the lack of seats (and yes...we had to eat standing up). But no be all those one piss me off sef- it was the fact that there was no fine bobos there- the ones that were evn manageable- had rings on their finger! Very disapointing especially as I made an effort sef...But then again I should have known better- London weddings aint shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;But come to think of it sef I have another wedding to go to in a few weeks time, so I guess I will just whip out the dress again now, abi? Just that I cant upload the pics i took on Facebook yet, cos u know how gbeborun people are- they wanna know why ur wearing the same dress for 2 different occassions, jobless useless people!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Got to go look for what to wear to work tommorrow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Laterz blogsville!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-1268364668129792063?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/1268364668129792063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=1268364668129792063' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/1268364668129792063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/1268364668129792063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/10/shopping-for-nothing.html' title='Shopping for nothing!!!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-2570555197027863502</id><published>2008-10-06T12:00:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T12:03:45.572+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation with Self…</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SOnwdECEDjI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LyYW8PVJROU/s1600-h/Marian+187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253994822393663026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SOnwdECEDjI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LyYW8PVJROU/s320/Marian+187.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I was asking myself “what is it I want in a man”: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want the next man that comes into my life to be the last- it doesn’t mean I would settle for some crappy person, it just means I am tired of playing the dating pool.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that will love me to the extent that I am not one of the person’s choices to be with, - I am the ONLY choice.&lt;br /&gt;I want them to feel as if, if it’s not me, it’s no one else- as if, if he has anyone but me he will be settling for less than he deserves&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that would love our kids unconditionally but would love me more cos I am the woman that gave him those kids&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that understands me, my moods and respects the things that they may seem fickle but are important to me&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that understands that I have to come before his family and consults me when he’s about to make important decisions.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that understands that his family members (and mine) are not allowed to come and camp in our house permanently!&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that loves to cuddle, hug, kiss, always want to touch me and make love to me and me alone&lt;br /&gt;I want a man that understands that his woman should not only get gifts on Valentines’ day, Birthdays, Christmas- a man that would have flowers delivered to me-just because.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that motivates me at all times and brings out the best in me&lt;br /&gt;I want some that understands that I am an independent woman and won’t always think I am trying to overtake his role&lt;br /&gt;I want a real man, a man confident in his sexuality, confident in himself, knows who he is and what he stands for.&lt;br /&gt;I want a man that expects me to do the things I have written above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all, I want a man that is man enough to catch me when I fall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-2570555197027863502?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/2570555197027863502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=2570555197027863502' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/2570555197027863502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/2570555197027863502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/10/conversation-with-self.html' title='Conversation with Self…'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SOnwdECEDjI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LyYW8PVJROU/s72-c/Marian+187.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-6344992044697222022</id><published>2008-09-20T08:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T09:24:06.434+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Suspension'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Letter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Couples'/><title type='text'>Love Letter / Suspension</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNSyv4XIw5I/AAAAAAAAABY/A0xTYJosP3E/s1600-h/funny+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248016001446495122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNSyv4XIw5I/AAAAAAAAABY/A0xTYJosP3E/s320/funny+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNSyl4uwhgI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WHRu2GO_dfg/s1600-h/funny+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I remember the first time I got suspended in secondary school. It wasn't because I was sneaking out, it wasn't because I was being troublesome or causing trouble in school, it wasn't because I didn't pay my school fees, hmn hmn, it wasn't anything "unembarassing" (if that's a word), it was because I wrote a love letter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;T'was sometime in May 2001. We had finished our SSCE but was still waiting to do NECO so all SS3 students werent allowed to go for mid-term. I was desperate for "home" food, so I knew I had to do something. I already knew that the trick to going home "legally" was to not pay school fees cos they would later send us home to go get our fees, but my mother would never had let that happen- send her daughter home for not paying fees? Hell to the no! So she always gave me my tellar (its something like a cheque- that you give to your school Bursar and the school cashes it) at the beginning of the term, but me now, knowing that I would wanna leave school at some point, would put the tellar in my box and it would remain there until they were sending people that hadn't paid their school fees home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Long story short, they sent me home with the people that hadnt paid and because it was impromptu, I dint have time to say goodbye to my high school boyfriend (Let's call him M)- so one of my friends that was going home with me but returning the same day offered to take a letter back for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So I wrote a letter- telling him I missed him already...yada yada yada...ended the leter with hugs and kisses!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Stupid girl that I gave the letter to didn't have an exeat to leave the school, and when she got back she fell into the principal's and some teachers hands in front of the school gate- and when they asked her to open her bag (they were searching for contraband), the letter was the 1st thing that fell out!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Obviously, there was nobody to tell me what happened cos I was still at home, so I got back to school the next day feeling like a smart person- and then some junior girl just came to me..."Senior Confessions, principal wants to see you"- immediately I stopped breathing- principal never wanted anyone for a good reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;To cut a long story even shorter, the pricipal didn't make it easy on us, he didn't do anything simple like suspend me and M, hmn hmn, he sent us home to go and tell our parents what we (or rather I did) and told us to come back with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When I got home, my mum (knowing the kind of person I was) wasn't suprised or even pissed about me getting suspended, she was pissed that I wrote the letter. She would have preferred that I received the letter- how was she going to face the principal when she felt as if it was her daughter that was "toasting" a guy up and to make matters worse, M was a pastor's son!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I sort of toyed with the idea of "renting" parents- I knew a few ppl that had done it before but the bloody vice principal went to school with my mum- so that idea wasn't gonna work well, was it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;My mum dragged my 2 elder sisters with her that she wont be the only one to embarass herself at the principals' office. Even M couldnt go home to tell his folks, were would d poor boy start from? So he went to beg their assistant pastor to follow him- nice man- dint tell his parents but blackmailed him with it for a long time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Luckily for us the pricipal forgave us after my mother gave him some really big sob story about how she's d only one bringing me up cos my dad died when I was a lil girl and stuff like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Even though he didn't send us home, he made us cut grass that even farmers couldnt cut, I still have the blisters to show for it, and no, that experience didn't stop me from writing more love letters...It only made me smarter about who I told to pass it to M for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Good thing came out of it though. We won 4 awards- "Best Couple", "Most likely couple to get married" (yeah right), "Baddest couple", "Most compatible". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;If only the people that voted for us then could see into the future!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-6344992044697222022?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/6344992044697222022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=6344992044697222022' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6344992044697222022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6344992044697222022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-letter-suspension.html' title='Love Letter / Suspension'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNSyv4XIw5I/AAAAAAAAABY/A0xTYJosP3E/s72-c/funny+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3774420705595904741</id><published>2008-09-18T13:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T13:15:07.940+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BA'/><title type='text'>10 Reasons why I like you</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I like you because you are sweet, and you stand up for what you believe in.&lt;br /&gt;I like you because you are confident but not cocky&lt;br /&gt;I like you cos you always motivate me; you’ve let me understand that I would only get the things that I go for&lt;br /&gt;I like you because you’ve taken the time to get to know me.&lt;br /&gt;I like you cos of the way you dedicate yourself to the things that matters to you.&lt;br /&gt;I like you not because of the position or the material things that you may own, but because of the features you possess that have made you unique to me&lt;br /&gt;I like you because you are always there when I need you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I like you because you never take anything for granted.&lt;br /&gt;I like you despite the fact that you could sometimes be the most annoying person I know&lt;br /&gt;Most of all, I like you because you’ve made it impossible not to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3774420705595904741?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3774420705595904741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3774420705595904741' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3774420705595904741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3774420705595904741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/10-reasons-why-i-like-you.html' title='10 Reasons why I like you'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-6004797286722563786</id><published>2008-09-17T18:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T18:58:19.915+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gucci'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goldfish'/><title type='text'>Gucci is Dead!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNFEvlt2DAI/AAAAAAAAABI/jwTz_2T-9NU/s1600-h/GoldfishZebra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247050625232276482" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNFEvlt2DAI/AAAAAAAAABI/jwTz_2T-9NU/s320/GoldfishZebra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Gucci (one of my 6 goldfishes) is dead! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Initially, I thought one of my family members was playing a trick on me cos I dint evn see the dead body. Called the pet shop and was told that sometimes if I forget to feed them (guilty), they can turn on each other and eat themselves(!!!)- funniest thing is Gucci was the biggest fish, and i used to call it the "Olori-ebi" (Head of the household)- Guess that pissed the others off!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I wont be replacing Gucci anytime soon- just wouldn't feel right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-6004797286722563786?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/6004797286722563786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=6004797286722563786' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6004797286722563786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/6004797286722563786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/gucci-is-dead.html' title='Gucci is Dead!!!'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SNFEvlt2DAI/AAAAAAAAABI/jwTz_2T-9NU/s72-c/GoldfishZebra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-4420343868824313383</id><published>2008-09-15T21:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T21:51:20.933+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Retail Therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><title type='text'>Retail Therapy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Following from the tragedy that was last week, I decided to have nothing spoil this week for me. So guess what I did- Went to work (man must still chop!), left earlier than i normally would and hooked up with a friend and we hit Oxford street for a shopping spree- by shopping spree I mean spending money I dont even have- but what the hell- if I aint got no man to do that for me why not do it for meself, ehn?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh well! So i shopped and bought things I cant even afford (half of which would be refunded 2moro unless I wanna walk to work for the rest of the month)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;But even though I have to return some of these things they sure did do their job -they brightened up my day!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-4420343868824313383?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/4420343868824313383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=4420343868824313383' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/4420343868824313383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/4420343868824313383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/retail-therapy.html' title='Retail Therapy'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-3828662615118505952</id><published>2008-09-14T20:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:13:25.365+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Flames'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1st Boyfriend'/><title type='text'>First Boyfriend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Isn't it weird how your 1st boyfriend always gets you? You've broken up for many many years and still yet he understands you and digs how you feel without you even saying anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't spoken to my 1st boyfriend in donkey years! Still yet, I had a terrible week and for some reason he was the 1st person that came to mind- I live in London, he lives in Lagos but that dint stop me from calling him- and bingo! uplifted mood!! Its been so so so long and he still knows the right things to say, when to talk, when to shut up, what to say to crack me up!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It came to a time during our conversation that I cant even remember why I broke up with him...Oh now I remember- t'was the most silly reason- He's a year older than me and I being someone that is propably too matured for my age met someone 5 years older and it freaked me that someone older found me attractive, so I dumped the poor boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spoke for 3 hours and I only just hung up to come blog this down, hmnn...t's bad thing I dont do old flames! *wink wink*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-3828662615118505952?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/3828662615118505952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=3828662615118505952' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3828662615118505952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/3828662615118505952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/first-boyfriend.html' title='First Boyfriend'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-9211285126721076292</id><published>2008-09-13T18:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:07:24.998+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Is there really a God?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I cant say I have had the best week; actually, scratch that! This is the worst week I have had this year. everything that can go bad has gone bad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I lost a very dear family friend; its times like this that I wonder if there really is a God- and if there is, why is it that he allows bad things to happen to good people? Why is it that he selects the times he listens to people's prayers? You serve him, you pray, you fast, you give tithes / offerings and still yet- the one thing you pray for, you dont get, and the few things that keeps you happy and sane, he takes from you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Why does bad things happen to good people?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-9211285126721076292?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/9211285126721076292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=9211285126721076292' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/9211285126721076292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/9211285126721076292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/is-there-really-god.html' title='Is there really a God?'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2589659784076763151.post-4957893412641731148</id><published>2008-09-10T08:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:08:49.699+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Problems'/><title type='text'>Relationships gone bad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Why do people think that because they have "invested" a few years into a relationship they have to remain in it when its gone sour and take the crap that is being dished out to them? Isn't it better that you write out the years you have put into the relationship as "bad debt" instead of investing ten more years and having kids then realising that you should not have let things come that far?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Why is that the majority of the people I know are currently experiencing bad relationships, the ones that are married are wishing they aren't, the ones that are engaged or "shackin" (living) together are wishing they never even met!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It wouldn't concern me, if they weren't bringing their problems to me, everyone asking me "what do you think I should do"? Now am not one to advice friends to dump their man- or woman, but then again I like to call a spade a spade and not a big spoon.&lt;br /&gt;If you are not happy in your relationship you need to talk it through with your partner, if that doesn't work, and things just get worse then you may need to get out of it whilst you can cos there does come a time were you have to love yourself more than anyone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now am not one that would advice anyone to cheat on their partner, i mean there's just no excuse for doing that and correct me if I am wrong, but when someone isnt happy in their relationship, isnt it better to get out of it and look for someone else that can be your soulmate as opposed to trying to eat your cake and still having it. There are some things that are just not right and shouldnt be done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I believe that anything a man did to get you, he has GOT to keep doing those things to keep you. The minute that stops, something's gotta give.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2589659784076763151-4957893412641731148?l=confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/feeds/4957893412641731148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2589659784076763151&amp;postID=4957893412641731148' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/4957893412641731148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2589659784076763151/posts/default/4957893412641731148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofalondongal.blogspot.com/2008/09/relationships-gone-bad.html' title='Relationships gone bad...'/><author><name>Confessions of a London gal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786802952317029925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4NjiIHN-Wkc/SMbjISH0EnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/12wUTEjg85I/S220/Virgin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
