Everything happened this year. Revolutions, riots, dictator deaths, economic crises, royal weddings, the release of Captain America, featuring Chris Evans’ giant pecs, Kelly Rowland and a selection of wigs appeared on a painfully mediocre X-Factor, , a fictional Prime Minister boffed a pig, and I cut off all my hair… I could go on, but [...]
Tag Archives: Getting started
The Big Chop
In January this year, I cut off most of my hair. I’d been relaxing it pretty constantly since I was 14 [I had a mild punk phase and shaved it off. Let's just say that particular haircut caused my mother to say scornfully, "You look like a boy. An ugly boy" and leave it at [...]
Why I Love… To-Do Lists
Over time, I have evolved – no, regressed – into the disorganised slattern I am today. Family stories have me, aged 4, tutting and calmly replacing ornaments on the mantle as my pregnant-and-in-labour mother threw things in the oblivious pain of her contractions. I was the master organiser, tongue between teeth in concentration, finding a [...]
All’s Fair In Love and Internships
Last night, I caught Who Gets The Best Jobs? on BBC2. The epg on my cheapo Freeview box gave the following synopsis: “Richard Bilton investigates how class continues to restrict access to professions and well-paid careers to a small exclusive pool of the well-connected in modern Britain.” I couldn’t not watch this.
The Do-Over
Walking around the John Lewis school uniform department last Sunday, my sister and I got to talking about what we would change about our school years. There were lots on my part – much as I loved my boarding school experience in Nigeria, I would’ve left earlier if it meant easier integration into an east [...]
Settling In
Apologies for the recent silence. As I explained last Friday, I moved house on Saturday. The following day I collapsed, exhausted, in between bouts of frantic floor scrubbing, intensive clothes folding and manic hoovering. On Sunday evening, delirious with tiredness, I had myself a little self-pitying cry. I ache from the tips of my hair to [...]
Get Shorty
“I looked all through my mind for memories of you. Unable to find any, I had to take your word for it that you were my father.” – Sean Hill (via @VeryShortStory), March 2, 2010 I only recently discovered the very cool Twitter feed of Very Short Story (@VeryShortStory), written by Sean Hill, an American writer based in [...]
Post-Birthday World
It was my birthday last Friday, and I was inundated with good wishes – I’m very lucky to have people who love and care for me so much. Do you remember how I lamented that 27 was such a non-age and all that? Well, for such a non-age, it kicked some serious ass. Many lovely things happened in [...]
100 Posts And Counting…
This blog is 100 posts old today. Now let me refer to the lovely and oft-misquoted Sally Field: “You like me! Right now, you like me!” Seriously though, at the risk of sounding like cutprice Oscarbait/crappy Alanis Morrisette, thank you. I can scarcely believe things have been going for this amount of posts. Particularly as when my [...]
T Minus 6: YorubaGirl's Holiday
Hola! I’ve begun packing. And panicking. I’m not the most organised of people – at the best of times I barely get by and when I do, it’s down to the crack team of organised lovelies I keep around me at all times – and this time I’m suffering. I bought the suitcase; it’s a lovely, large [...]
The Unnatural Pull of True Blood
Lately, I’ve been resisting the urge to speak in a Louisiana drawl and wear incredibly short shorts. It’s the beginning stages of a new and possibly unhealthy addiction. An addiction to British TV’s latest HBO import, True Blood. I like pop culture vampires – Angel (or Angelus when he’s bad), Spike, I love ‘em . [...]
I want to ride my bicycle, BI-CYCLE!
I belong to a seemingly exclusive club. Most people tend to react with surprise when they find that I’m a member and many think I’m joking. Only a few confess haltingly that, they too, are members of my club. My name is YorubaGirl, and I can’t ride a bike. Altogether now: “Hello, YorubaGirl.” I had [...]




