MJ and me

I'm sure the reader of this blog hasn't failed to notice that my 'pseudonymn' is about Michael Jackson. I'm a huge fan. Have been for about fifteen years now. Before that, I was just a fan. But when I was fifteen, my dad gave me HIStory for Christmas, and that was the trigger. That was also the year he gave me Prince's 3-disc epic, but that didn't have the same effect. Hmmm.

Anyway, I love Michael Jackson, and for a while was slightly obsessed. I remember downloading his autobiagraphy from the internet one afternoon. This was in the days of dial-up, so it took about four hours. I then stayed up until half-two the following morning reading it. I would record any little snippet of news or telly to do with Michael Jackson- three minute reports on Inside Edition, a mention of him on Hard Copy, a clip of an interview on regional news. Usually, I'd just program the VCR, but I didn't trust it when it came to MJ, so I'd actually set my alarm to wake up so I could go downstairs and press 'record' myself, if something was on late at night. I also used to set my alarm to wake up to watch porn, but that's by the by. Hey, I was a fourteen-year old virgn, going to a convent school. Gimme a break!

I'd visit all these fan sites and download and print off photos of him. I'd print off the black and white ones at home, and the colour ones at my dad's office. And because I chose to spend my allowance on other things, I'd do a sort of homemade laminating with scotch tape and lots of patience. I'd put these pictures up in my MJ corner, which was up by the head of my bed. I'd go to second-hand book stores and look for magazines or books that had his photo on the cover or his name in the title. I'd post in fan forums. And when we went to St Thomas on holiday in 1997, I found the most perfect video called Michael Jackson: The Legend Continues. I also ended up snogging the salesdude from the record store I bought it in. Go me! I ordered a Jackson 5 Anthology, which was effing awesome and which I listened to constantly. I made mix-tapes...about fifteen if memory serves. And my parents got me a walkman one year, because they were sick of me begging them to play my tapes in the car when we were on holiday. I'd make my dad bring me CDs or tapes whenever he went on a business trip. And for a few years, I signed all my emails and letters "Peace, Love and Michael Jackson". I think this lost me a few friends and a lot of respect, but I wasn't running for public office so it was cool.

I could go on, and on and on. I did it all. The only thing I didn't do was see him perform and I'd planned to do that when he finally returned to the stage in London. My Nigerian posse over here are huge fans as well, so we were all hoping to get tickets. But the fates were against us. I was even considering buying one of the VIP tickets at £730 a pop.

And then the news broke.

I was having trouble sleeping that night, because my husband was getting on my nerves...as per. And just as I was dozing off, he shook me to tell me that Michael Jackson was being taken to hospital. I was like, "Oh, ok. As long as he isn't dead." Then my mate The Princess texted me to say that Michael Jackson was dead, and I replied "Well, BBC News says he isn't, so I'm going with that. Talk to you tomorrow!" Then my ex (who is also The Princess's brother) phoned me to tell me that Michael Jackson was dead, and I was like "BBC News says he isn't, so I don't know. Can I ring you tomorrow?" This is all hazy because I was at that halfway point between sleep and wake. I was actually more annoyed that people were texting and calling me at that hour of the night, when anyone who knows me properly, knows that I don't like being disturbed after nine o'clock!

But then the next morning, when I switched on BBC Breakfast, I realised it was true. And I couldn't believe it. I didn't cry though, but I was just incredibly sad. Let's get one thing straight. I may be a bitch, but I do have a heart. However, I do not cry for celebrities. The only people that are worth my tears are my friends and family, or ordinary people who are going through extreme hardship. So as sad as I was, my eyes remained dry. When I went to the dentist that morning, the shop opposite was blasting a radio station that was obviously paying tribute to him, and taking calls from listeners. Good music all morning. When I came home, I knew that the music channels would be showing interviews and what not, so I kept the telly on them.

And then I became angry.

All these celebrities being interviewed, talking about how great he was and how sad they all are now that he's dead, and I just thought "Fuck you. Fuck ALL of you! Where the hell were you when he was going through hard times and all he wanted was a kind word and some support? Fucking bastards! Now all of you 'can't stop crying' and are 'devastated'. Fuck off and die, the lot of you!" And that feeling continued throught the day. But I still didn't shed a tear. My husband went back to work the following morning, and I was heading off to the Manor (which is where The Princess lives...obviously) for her anniversary party. As I was getting ready to go and packing my suitcase, You Are Not Alone came on the telly. And THAT was when I shed a tear.

All Michael Jackson did was love and he wanted love in return, and the world just shat all over him. And as cheesy as it was, You are Not Alone was very apt, because he was sort of alone. It just made me so sad. Sad is the only word I can think to describe how I felt. I have never in my life cried over a celebrity death. Never. But I think MJ was worth it. That Saturday in June, at the Manor, the Madams and our Nigerian posse paid tribute in our own way. We danced all day and all night to Mike, stopping to shake our heads in shock. But it was a brilliant day.

His memorial service was another issue entirely. I cried like a baby for most of it, and I even bought a copy of it in Trinidad. But I haven't had the stones to watch it yet. It's even on my DVR, but also can't watch it again. Sigh!

This post became even more relevant, because last night his 30th Anniversary Special was on telly. It was like a car crash. I wanted to watch, but I couldn't. So I kept flicking back and forth. And in the end I couldn't sleep. I stayed up way past my bedtime, just laying in bed willing him back to life. Let's see if it works...

In the mean time, here are some of my favourite MJ songs, from different stages in his career. I haven't chosen well-known songs, so hopefully dear reader, you will appreciate them.




He recorded this early on his career with the Jackson 5, so was between 11 and 13, and his voice is just amazing. I love the haunting quality of the first lines and remember when I first heard it. I couldn't believe that this song existed. I fell in love with it immediately, and was like "YES MIKE!!! YOU CAN SEE ME IN THE MORNING!!!" Oh my.




This song reminds me of nighttime in Spain. I'd have this song on loop overnight, to help me sleep. so when I hear this, I'm just reminded of me laying in bed in the dark, dreaming about the guy I fancied at work and MJ in alternate fantasies. I love his voice on this track. So smooth, so perfect. The tonal quality is excellent and when he gets to the end and is singing in the higher key, almost like he's pleading, it just kills me. Even listening to it now is a bit much. It makes me shake inside.





I first heard this song on that video I bought in St Thomas. I loved that it was a live performance as well, since until that point the only live video I could think of was 'Another Part of Me'. I'd never heard this song before, but I LOVE it and I love his perfomance of it and the irony is that this video is from the same tour as 'Another Part of Me'. It looks like he's somewhere in Asia and everyone's just bloody loving it. And the fact that he's enjoying this performance so much, even though it's an older song just shows that he was simply born to do this. I love that outfit he wore on the Bad tour. I think it's my favourite.





My favourite song from Invincible. I honestly can't describe how it makes me feel. I remember putting this on when I went to the Academia on Saturdays to work on lessons and materials. I'd sit there, eating pizza, drawing out clocks on sheets of bristol board, and singing along to this. He is voice on this track gave me butterflies. I think it's right up there with Don't Stop Til You Get Enough as my all time favourite MJ song.

I think Micheal Jackson's is the only celebrity death I've ever really cared about before and it'll probably be the last. I mean, I don't think I'll be that bothered when Justin Timbertesticles goes over to the other side or when Madonna finally does the respectable thing and surrenders what's left of her soul.

Michael Jackson was special and even though I've never met him and most like never would have, I honestly miss him.

About two feet tall

Haiti. When I was at school, we learned about Haiti's history and about Toussaint L'Ouverture. This was all explained in David Rudder's brilliantly sad song Haiti I'm Sorry. And these words are no more relevant than today.

Haiti seems to be a country blighted by everything known to man. Rampant poverty and illiteracy, crime, corruption (Papa Doc and Baby Doc ruled for for years, draining any wealth out of the system) and now natural disasters. They've been hit by hurricanes, floods, mudslides and now an earthquake.

I feel particularly small today, as I've been so wrapped up in that blanket of myself lately. And here these people are trying to yet again, come out from a dark period. It's things like these that do make me question the existence of God. But I have to keep my sanity by telling myself that all things happen for a reason. And maybe this time it's to help the rest of the world put things in perspective. We seem to be not learning any lessons. There's a train of thought in Trinidad that goes "Some people need a tap on the shoulder, and others need a cuff in the face!" and it seems that we need that cuff in the face to wake up to the reality of our lives.

I just hope they catch a break soon. How much more can these people take? Haiti, I truly am sorry.

Doh hol meh back, ah feelin' RHELLL slack!

I am currently in love with 3 Suns' new song, Wine Low. I have ALWAYS liked 3 Suns and have been baffled by their lack of commercial success for Carnival. They have great songs and I luurrrve them! This year they come REAL good. RHELLLLLLL good. I don't know if it's as good as We Eh Leavin', but it's at least as good as Levitate, Elevate.

I downloaded it on to my iPod this morning for my journey into uni, and had quite a nice time listening to it on the train. It made me so happy, I was there wining in my seat. As far as I'm aware, Virgin Trains do not have a policy on people bussing a small wine in their seat, so I did so with reckless abandon. Luckily I was in the Quiet Coach and it was fairly empty. This, and the fact tha Thunder was on my playlist just before this song, made me so happy, even though it was all grey and cold and depressing. All I could see was me in my costume, Wining lowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlowlow!!!

So, take this and enjoy. :)








Oh gad-oh!!!

The weather outside is frightful, but I find it so delightful!!

Today is day 412 of the Big Freeze TM... or so they'd have you believe they way they're carrying on.

A few inches of snow have fallen in the UK over the past few weeks. It's caused some inconvenience across the country, but according to all the 24 hour news channels, we're losing billions in lost hours and people are dropping like flies. We've been encouraged to stay indoors for fear of freezing to death in our cars. People haven't been going in to work, airports have been closed, entire towns have been cut off from the rest of the world. There was a report about some New Year's Eve (Ol' Year's Night, to thee and me) partygoers who were stranded in their hilltop pub for three days. Talk about the party that would never end! Not surprisingly, that pub landlord is now selling up. Bless him!

People have put the cost to the economy in the billions of pounds. A&Es around the country have been swamped with little old ladies with broken wrists sustained while taking their terriers for walkies, students with shattered ankles sustained after falling off of homemade snowboards and middle aged-men with torn tendons sustained while running through the snow to get make sure they really did lock the car before they came inside. Cost to the NHS? Who knows? All we know is that it's been an absolute TRAGEDY for the country. Disaster! Anarchy! Catastrophe!! Or so they'd have us believe. 24 Hour news channels (Sky, I'm looking at you!) are the bane of our modern-day existence. They take any little event and blow it up. So a few inches of snow have somehow morphed into "The Big Freeze".

It started snowing a few days before Christmas. It was interesting at first, nay even a bit exciting. I mean it very rarely snows in the UK. And when it does, it doesn't stick. So the fact that it was sticking made the place look all lovely and Christmassy. People were making snowmen, familes went sledding together, and every twat with a mobile phone camera became a wildlife photographer- as evidenced by the pictures being sent in to various news programmes.

Yeah, the roads were a bit icy, but you just drove more carefully. Yes the sidewalks were more slippery, but you just put on some sensible shoes and watched your step. Yes your car was covered in frost and snow in the mornings, but you factored that in and took the extra five minutes scraping it off and spraying on the de-icer. No big whup. But there is a tendency for people to go beserk and act like the four horsemen of the apocalypse are saddling up and punching co-ordinates into the sat-nav!

Schools were closed because teachers couldn't get in to teach the little darlings. This meant that parents had to be off work to stay home with their kids. This then meant that wherever the parents worked, had to do without them for a few days. Twas a vicious cycle. Sigh.

I myself had a snow-related adventure last week, when my car skidded into a curb when I turned the corner into my estate. Then I almost died when I went into town to go to the market and the butcher's. I swore my limbs were going to fall off. But I survived. Made it home to catch an episode of Judge Judy, slip into my Crocs and guzzle some tea.

However, in some parts, there have been reports of supermarkets running out of bread and milk as people stockpile supplies. Some stores have sold out of duvets, which begs the question, what were people sleeping with before? A nice thin cotton sheet? And when I did my shopping last week, I noticed that the shelves were completely bare of salt and all its derivatives- rock salt, sea salt, table salt. One store even reported running out of condoms! Well, if you're stuck indoors, might as well shag the hours away, eh? Generate heat and all that...

I guess I should count myself among the lucky ones though. I don't work and don't have any kids so I could afford to just sit on my window seat and watch the flakes fall. My sister wasn't so lucky last week though. She flew back from Trinidad for the start of the new term. She was supposed to land at Gatwick then fly up to Manchester, where I'd pick her up and drop her off at her place. But The Big Freeze showed no mercy. Gatwick airport was closed, so they were diverted to Stanstead, from where they were bussed to Gatwick. Of course there were no flights leaving there and there was no guarantee of a flight the next day or the day after, and nary a hotel room to be had. So she took a taxi to London Euston (cost £125!) and a train to Liverpool (cost £43!) and finally arrived at her flat nearly twelve hours after landing in London that morning. The poor lamb.

But at least it meant I didn't have to go out and pick her up. ;) Someone did ask the very important question though- is the NHS going to be able to cope with the inevitable increase in births nine months from now? I know I am waiting with bated breath. For now though, I shall sit here in fuzzy socks and dressing gown, sipping on tea and feeling smug.

It comes but once a year...

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!

Just thought I'd share my favourite Christmas song, which I only heard during my first year in England. It's a very happy Christmas song, and while it isn't a patch on the best soca parang tune to be heard, it's pretty awesome!

So here it is (you'll see why this is funny once you watch the video)...

We're only human after all

Tiger Woods has been boning down. Like, constantly. So what, I hear you cry? Well, problem is, he's married with two kids. Yessss... And he wasn't boning down with his wife.

Oh no!

As strong as my feelings are on adultery- my husband is very clear on this, and there is a 'bail' fund in case he ever gets caught in the act and I stab him and beat the crap out of her. But he isn't the cheating type, so I think I'll buy some Louboutins with the fund- but I digress. As strong as my feelings are on adultery, I'm finding it very hard to sum up any sort of emotion about this.

What is wrong with me??

I mean, am I so cold hearted that I cannot feel anything for the young, gorgeous woman, whose uber-rich semi-attractive husband had A LOT of sex with women who looked just like her? I mean, if she divorces him, she walks away with a cool $300 mil and will most likely be snapped up by some other self-absorbed rich dude. And he will be free to shag whomever he likes. Is that such a horrible thing?

Ok, so the man had some sex. And she is humiliated and hurt. But I find the whole situation so ludicrous that I'm really not arsed. I can understand how she must be feeling. I mean, I've been cheated on in the past. It was almost ten years ago, but finding out isn't at all a nice feeling. And it's probably a jillion times worse when it happens in public like this. So I do feel kind of bad for her. But I think that's where it stops.

I have no emotional investment in Tiger Woods. He doesn't factor into my life in any way. I mean, yes I remember watching that Masters tournament and the interview on Oprah afterwards. And even then I didn't watch the whole tournament. Just the final day, when it was clear that something special was going to happen. The thing is, golf is one of the dullest sports on the planet, a title also shared by snooker, curling, badminton and darts. So I am not really bothered by Tiger's achievements.

I think it also has something to do with the fact that I think he's full of shit. A fact that has only been compounded by his response to this whole malarkey. Instead of admitting right off the bat that he'd been caught with his trousers round his ankles and making the wrong sort of hole in one, he issued two completely lame-ass statements. Steups. I'm getting all riled up just thinking about it. It's taking me back to the 'cablinasian' bollocks he spouted on Oprah all those years ago. Yer man is mixed. Ok, yes. His mama's Thai and his dad is black. Instead of just saying that, he invents this ridiculous word and probably heard my eyes rolling all the way from my gran's living room in Trinidad.

So now I couldn't really care less what he gets up to. His wife and kids will be generously provided for, whatever the outcome of this so I don't think they need my sympathy. He wasn't beating the crap out of her or anything. Just being immensely stupid.

Steups. I'm over it.

More than a feeling...again!

Oh my. Looks like old feelings are bubbling up and up and up!


We Need a Resolution


I went to Spain for the first part of my year abroad. My lecturer arranged for me to work at the Camara de Comercio in a town called Soria, Spain which is two hours north of Madrid. I also worked at a languages academy, teaching English of course. I lived in a flat with a couple who were nice enough, I guess. He was wicked old and she was young and hot. I'm just glad I never heard them boning down. His name was Manuel, and I forget what she was called, but she made some deelishis empanadas. Anyway, my days were spent at the Camara, and my evenings at the languages school. I had a couple friends there and was mostly enjoying it (apart from being always mistaken for a prostitute. But that's for another day), but I really missed my black posse back in Preston.

So I arranged to fly back for a long weekend to get my Browns fix. Browns was an R&B/ Hip Hop club in Preston. It wasn't brilliant, but it succeeded because it was the ONLY R&B/ Hip Hop club in Preston. So chances are if you were black, you'd spend some portion of your weekend there. In my second and final year at uni, we fecking owned Browns. We had our own corner. There were girls who were actually afraid of us. Anyway, I was glad to be back, talking shit with my crew and all that. I hung out with my black posse and my mate G. Good times! It was also during this time that Aaliyah AND Michael Jackson released their new albums. I'd heard We Need A Resolution at some point, and really liked it so I bought it. And of course I bought the MJ. D'uh!

So after a weekend of throwing some serious shapes around Preston, and rocking the only weave I've ever worn, I flew back to Madrid and got on a bus to Soria, with my Aaliyah and MJ CDs. This is the first track on the album, and it just blew me away. I was always an Aaliyah fan. I love her voice. It's so pure and sweet and is just perfect, the way it just kind of floats over the melody and lyrics is just brilliant. It just moves effortlessly up and down the register and gives me goosebumps. The other song I love on the record is More Than A Woman. But Resolution is the song I played over and over again. I don't think I slept on the wrong side, but I felt like I most def needed a Resolution, especially as I fancied the arse of Alejandro at the Camara and was too much of a douche to make a move. I didn't speak my heart. I bit my tongue. Plus, he had a girlfriend.


I'd have this song on repeat, just singing it over and over and over and over. I'd take the CD down to Oui & Yes (the languages place) and put it on while I ate pizza and planned my lessons and made materials. I'd play it in the mornings while I was getting ready for work. I'd play it when I came in during siesta to get ready for my afternoon classes. I'd play it while I was laying on my bed devouring any English magazines or newspapers I'd gotten my hands on. I also read Spanish Cosmo, which is actually pretty good! I just played it damn near all the time. And when I saw the video? DAMN!! I just loved it. She looked SOOO gorgeous, it made me love the song even more. Sigh! Even seeing the video now makes my pores raise. She just looks stunning.

Aaliyah died later on that year I think. I remember I was back in Trinidad at the time, and my dad was all distraught because he thought it was Lil Kim that died. Don't ask.

It makes me sad that this amazing singer is no longer here. Timbaland lost his muse and to fill the void has resorted to working with Justin Timbertesticles and Nelly Furtado. I sometimes wonder if Aaliyah was still alive, if Rhianna would be as big as she is now. A bit random, I know, but my mind sometimes works that way.

Oh, and Alejandro and I did have a little thing in Seville the following year. Turned out he was quite taken with the black girl after all!

But it also turned out he had a tiny penis.

Oh my!