Wednesday, April 28, 2010


The Fox slept over the other night and left his sword necklace - originally something I was swooning over and thinking of buying in Aldo Accessories, which he had the audacity to pick up on the spot and buy for himself (!!!) so it's rightfully mine anyway. The only thing is you weren't supposed to shower in it, dude, so now the chain is rusted. I'm going to buy a longer one anyway, and then it'll be perfect. I wouldn't take it off ever either though but I'm a heavy sleeper and as cool as it sounds to say that your jewelry stabbed you, I'm not having it.  
IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.


...and that's how it's done. THAT'S how you live.
 And OF COURSE the owner of a place like this is named Cindy Gallop. What else would she be called, yuh know? Extra Fucking Credit.

I can't stress how much this place is blowing. my. mind. So glad I found it right on the cusp of renting my first apartment in Abu Dhabi and am thoroughly re-inspired. Speaking of my potential new home...dear readers, I am terrified. It's perfect. And I promise after today to never gush over it ever again until I am moving in because I'm afraid to jinx it. It's the cheapest and biggest studio I've seen in town so far. It's brand spanking new, includes water and electricity, has a huge window, HUGE white rooftop (say hello to better outfit of the day photos), 24 hour fitness centre with sauna, parking spot, 10 mins away from where I work and smack opposite some of my favourite hangouts (can already see myself rolling home at 4am). What's the catch? I'll have to pay a year's rent up front plus deposit and agency fees. So my mum and I are scraping up some serious cash right now, and this is exactly why even though I have a pretty badass fulltime job with matching salary (which I just received), I ate cup noodles for lunch today and will be serving drinks on my friend's boat this weekend for a measly 50 dirhams an hour. I can't remember if I told you about this friend - The English Russian? - He lives on a boat, has a diamond drilled into one of his canines and likes BDSM. He also offered to lend me some of the money. I politely refused though...


[photos from The Selby]

Sunday, April 25, 2010



bag: H&M
Wang/Farrow wannabes: Forever 21
Seriously more amazing on my feet and in person caged heels (already scoffed from thrice weekly wearage) : New Look (I KNOW!)
I'm well aware that it's more effective to wear my pieces for you rather than snap them on the floor in front of heaps of clothing, but confidence is at an all time low right now as I've reached the 'Interfuckingmission' on the Woodstock: The Director's Cut DVD, which is brimming with the most beautiful long-limbed lifeforms I've ever seen since Avatar in 3D (and these guys are real!), not to mention I had to review a highrollers-and-their-hoes private beach club this weekend rightly named Plastik - I've never been so painfully aware of myself. I swear, even if I wanted to stay longer than the tragic hour that I did spent smoking menthols and pretending to enjoy the sunset, I probably wouldn't have made it out of there alive what with all those dangerously hard nipples threatening to gouge my ever-swivelling eye out. Another thing that doesn't help my case much is the fact that I've chosen to date an Arabic Adonis. But I won't even bother getting started on that guy right now. Enough of him was had last night for me to refrain from mentioning him for the rest of the week. I'll try my bestest.
This week's honourable mentions:
truffle pasta from Jones the Grocer, re-introducing myself to my septum piercing, THAT apartment,, 'Strange Fruit' by Siouxsie and the Banshees, working wet hair, legalizing my employment, getting beaten and beating back HARD at Muay Thai, my new 'army' jacket, malteser's, 1.5 litres of water a day, meditation via candlelight, plastic recycling, telling people what I really want

Tuesday, April 20, 2010


I just worked 14 hours, and then when it was time for dinner, I worked again as I had to review the restaurant. But ending off a day like this by watching Woodstock: The Director's Cut, the sexy people that walked the face of that period (including fringe jacketed Roger Daltry) and hearing this song (with the help of a little alcohol) makes me not mind facing it all again tomorrow. I think the Woodstock DVD should be a prerequisite to any work day. And alcohol.

But speaking of Woodstock (and let me take a convenient moment to wish you happy 4/20), something like (and unlike) the modern day equivalent will be hitting my shores this weekend and I plan to get thoroughly wet and wild for Damian Marley on the Saturday. And that is all.

Sunday, April 11, 2010


This is a big one...(oh, and I actually wrote it today, the 16th, rather than the 11th but it was a draft from before...not that it matters)
Ah, yes, April, the month of fools. This is a picture of what I thought was probably the last smile of mine for April as hours later reality punched me in the face. I scattered my salary across Dubai Mall like the ashes of someone you thought couldn't die fast enough into the Atlantic Sea. Kiddos, my wallet is so badly bruised that the office was in shock yesterday to see me join them in the kitchen with a cup of noodles that I pulled from my new office drawer stash - 'you finally caught on; life in Abu Dhabi is deceptively expensive. Welcome!' Hey, well at least I make broke look good with my caged stilettos, studded Zara jacket, H&M skinnies with leather knees and shameless copy of the Wang/Farrow sunglasses; cuppa noodles never looked this sexy.
To put salt on the rim and a lemon wedge on top of that, The Fox and I have been apartment hunting - yes, I know; it's way too soon. We should at least have a pregnancy scare first haha. But what can I say? For me, 2010 is all about going with my gut feeling. In fact, we visited one seriously perfect candidate last night and I have to say, it literally hurts my heart the way they go about leasing these things here. You're expected to pay the full year up front. I imagine that right now you're grabbing your pockets and wincing the way guys tense up and pass a hand near their crotch when something really bad happens to a character's penis in a movie. Maybe, since this blog is starting to gain a lot more interest, I should get you guys to sign a petition for me to get it down to at least 4 payments a year. Seal that with a kiss, et voila. I'm adorable enough to get away with it, right? We'll see; because the way I've sort of quietly nudged this topic into family dinner conversation, the parental unit is not at all pleased and I may have to take matters into my own hands.
Also, since I can't own a Mercedes G-Class Off-roader (although technically I can own anything I say I can, says my hypnotherapist) another thing I could see myself spending a small fortune on this year is a Jeep Wrangler Sport in Rescue Green, which for some reason has been conveniently presenting itself all over town these last couple weeks. I hailed one once like a cab just to see if my mind was powerful enough yet that it would stop, eject its passenger, ever so slightly recline the seat to suit and start playing Empire of the Sun. But no, not yet; my mind still has a long way to go.

No more weekly quirky nail colour applications from my lovely Filipino gal pals next door.

As if I didn't feel milked already, I now have an udder on my head; a souvenir from my brother who just made his first trip to Turkey. He's very pleased with himself too. He's going away to college soon in Canada and I felt that if I bought him an iPod nano (he's never owned an MP3 Player and we've already hit 2010) that I would get something really great back in return for my selfless act. I got udders. But I jest; I didn't expect anything major back from him; from the forces that be, maybe. Ever since I started doing hypnotherapy, I've realised something very simple about the world and the energy we share in it. Think of a revolving clothesline with clean and dirty laundry on it. The more clean clothes I put out on it to dry, the more dry, clean clothes than dirty should come back around on it to me. And if dirty laundry is coming round the bend, I don't have to pick it up; it's my choice what I decide to gather and put out. I think that's the best way to describe it.

I could probably call my life right now by the same title but no unfair moment lasts forever. Unfair is a new magazine in Abu Dhabi that's actually based in Paris, and I was thinking of sending over my CV just for the hell of it, as it's fashion and all and at the moment I write about everything from the best nurseries in the city to where you can sample camel pizza. Don't get me wrong, I love my job to bits and pieces but it would be nice to get that one step closer to the perfect scenario; and as you're probably aware, perfect scenario for me means making a living writing while being comfortably seated at one of the best tables in fashion heaven. So instead of seeking outside help to achieve this, I threw some freshly washed linens onto the clothesline. I proposed a fashion section to my editorial team and it looks like...*cue Travis Barker on the drums*...I am now head of fashion at our magazine! So much to do to prepare! So much to wear and to see worn!

What's more is I am supposed to be throwing my first sale event next month - as frequent readers may already know, I've been investing a little money into rounding up some unique and cute pieces I find on my travels (and in obscure shops around town) for my own mini business and it's been going really well. But as the deadline draws nearer, I don't think I've gathered enough for a full wine and cheese event so I may just do some wardrobe spring cleaning and sell a few items secondhand as well. A studio apartment simply won't be able to hold all this clothes anyway.

And then here's me in a magazine itself! Kind of beyond embarassing but it's funny because in the photo we can see my new Samsung Corby mobile phone which was stolen that very same day on my way home from work (I'm pretty sure this was in April too). I bought it 6 days before that. Now because my hypnotherapist has been diligently implanting positive thoughts into my mind as I sit in the deepest darkest depths of it in search of The Uber Kara, prior to sessions I would've said 'FUCK MY LIFE' or sung 'More Money, More Problems' then holed up in my room with a bottle from my parent's cabinet and put myself to sleep to some Doom Metal. But I don't believe in saying things like this anymore because believe me, it really is mind over matter and so far, despite all this, somehow my life has been going amazingly.

So what's on the agenda for today? I've already foolishly decided against Muay Thai this morning and my body (which has been very keen to become Lady Gaga's recently) is not pleased for the break in the slightest, so up next (if The Fox will take my calls) is some big beach party on another island just off Abu Dhabi. My friend the English Russian lives on a boat and so he might be taking a couple of folks over, feeding us, boozing us up and entertaining us with silly BDSM jokes first though, which the party promoters aren't! I know; I've already given myself a pat on the back for choosing the right friends!


It fucking sucks how addictive tattooing is.
Which one should I get?
My money's on 'wholeness'
More from me another day.