IT IS WRITTEN

And I love her.
Always have, always will.
Okay - I'll make it official. Kesh is my 2011 muse.

...
How's your year going so far? Did you sit on the freezing sidewalk in a poofy black skirt and howl in desperation at the moon?
Damn, so did I.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

MEET ME HALFWAY

Wow, what a year. I truly hope your's was as wild as mine...and despite my negative 'tude, I mean that in the best possible way

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

GIMME THAT SALT ALL AROUND THAT RIM

 Hello! I didn't type for a while because I nearly sawed off my left middle finger while feverishly attacking a block of cheese - I started a no carb thing a couple days a week so...it was bound to happen sooner or later. Anyway, isn't that just a fucking awesome album cover? No shame in saying it...the skankiness of her, the wigs, the dirty mouth, her rhymes, the Barbie fascination....the fact that she is ALSO from Trinidad....it all just makes my labia tingle lol.


Disgusting, isn't it? Yet I would wed and bed this girl in a heartbeat (or bed then wed her, doesn't matter...). Throw in the new Kelis (who I'm seeing live tonight) and some Kesh (also Trinidadian) and I'm set for life.

In fact, I would love to sit in on some Young Money meetings (I don't listen to rap regularly but I am highly impressed with this crew, namely Nicki, Drake and Lil Wayne. Young Money is to the world of Hip Hop what Jack Kerouac is to Fiction, and I just hope they can keep it going, even while in prison.

Oy vey...straying very far away from my metal/punk/electro home...

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

RED HORSES GALLOP

I have nothing to show you with regards to Halloween. Get over it.

Damn, it's been a minute. I am thinking of starting a zine called 'Red Horses Gallop'. Inspiration?

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

HOW DO I LOOK?

Just two poor people enjoying each other's company on a kitchen floor.

Last thing you ate: tuna salad

Last thing you drank: half a can of day old totally fizzed out coke sitting on my dresser when I woke up. My cola addiction is definitely back.

Last thing you watched: One of the Abu Dhabi Film Festival documentaries: Tears of Gaza, a disturbingly candid look at the situation out there...The Fox is Palestinian so we made a date to catch it.

Last thing you bought: an egg sandwich at 3 in the morning from a little Arab pit stop post the Abu Dhabi Fighting Championship after party.

Last thing you returned: Readers, I've come to that point in my life where there is no longer anything to return. However, there are loads to swap! So I'm sooo glad I launched this funky swap social event business. It's in perfect timing with my new poverty-stricken situation. The last clothing swap was just yesterday, actually, and I managed to nab a few tops and a delicate teardrop anklet. Not as killer a collection as the last one where I walked away with a killer cut blazer, battered black skinnies, and more. But it can only get better.

Last thing you dreamt of: playing basketball with my family, my ex and his new girlfriend...
Last thing you wrote: a piece on some real Bear Grylls people preparing to cross the desert, climb the emirate's highest peak, kayak it's surrounding waters and cross the finish line in no more than 6 days to win some fat cash. Good for them.

Last thing you laughed at: The unfortunate people The Fox and I had to mingle with at the fighting championship after party, they being cleavage popping teachers in droves shotting tequila and dancing with their shoes off while waiting to see buffed up tatted up fighters fresh from the ring and dotted with bandages. The male population? Off their face Arab gym buffs hoping to be mistaken for pro-fighters by the female population.

Last thing you read: Oddly, I've been reading the bible to The Fox and we've been stopping to make notes and compare religions. And we've been doing this while drinking vodka cranberries. Is this wrong? I just think it's such a great story...well, once you get past all those repetitive sections on the many offspring being produced and the generations dying out.

Last thing you felt proud about: another successful swap event, I guess. We're slowly building up a fanbase - as well as some cash - and this great girl from a local mag called me up the other day to propose a feature interview. An interesting sidenote: they're the rival mag of the one I used to work for only a month ago.

Last thing you considered: a very gutsy hair chopping spree...

Last thing you saw that you wanted: the biggest glass of red wine

Last thing you stole: a cigarette off af a guy at mentioned after party, which I took back to my poor, cigarette deprived fox. We're so broke. And so bored.

Last thing you realised: that I'm about to start training for my first real amateur muay thai fight, and that I can't back out of it now because my editor loves the idea of me keeping a fight diary. My aim is to be in the ring for my 22nd birthday in January. Would you pay good money to see that? Cause I could use some.



IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

A GOTHIC ROMANCE

Call it a poor girl's mental block but I've seen this scent just about everywhere before, heard everyone's gushes, even thought the name - Black Orchid - sounded exactly like something that I should be smelling like for the rest of my very dark life, but never bothered to test it out until last night at the mall. And only because I was smelling a tad sweaty from hopping buses all day and about to sit in a darkened theatre with several other people. The Fox - who is taking a shot at courting me once more - and I went on a date and ended up finding our perfect scents - and I presume - each other's perfect christmas gifts, before catching the 8.15 showing of The Devil (yeah, I dunno). His would be Bleu de Chanel and mine would be aformentioned heady otherwordliness. Funny thing is it also smells just like this eggnog-y type drink we guzzle at Christmas time in Trinidad, but made for your neck! I can't quite nail it in writing so just go sniff for yourself next time you hit up the department stores.  

3 things I'm stoked about right now:

Tackling Adrien Brody on the red carpet when he comes here for the gala screening of his latest film 'Wrecked'. The Abu Dhabi Film Festival hits the capital this weekend, baby!

My next swap social happening next week! Business is booming! More later.

Modeling in early November for students at a photography workshop. Save for a few Kill City shots taken by Panda back in the day (and a shoot done two days ago to promote my next swap social), I don't - and am certainly no - model, but I'm thinking why the fuck not? From what it looks like, I'm on a mission to be as out of my element as possible for the rest of 2010 (I just competed in Abu Dhabi's Dragonboat Races, got picked up on by some male high school biology students I was giving an exam to, started a business overnight, and literally just got asked to train with the country's national triathlon team...). So modeling? Piece o cake.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

LARKS IN THE GARDEN

Me after crying for centuries.

How was your weekend? Unfortunately I had to dump my boyfriend AND kick him out of my apartment before he decided to come back at me with any regretful, loved up words (or his penis). And then I got dressed the fuck up in an "Alexis Mabille" dress and danced myself skinnier and far far happier. So now everything is fine. For now.

Me, Alexis Mabille's spirit and my sister (guess how old she is!)

I have to say...the one good thing about a rocky relationship when you're a writer is all the stories it produces. Wrote a great deal this morning.

And now some music. This song always relaxes me, and helps me make believe I am alone on Spanish cobbled streets:

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

I'VE GOT STAINS ON MY TSHIRT

Behind the scenes of one of my latest little projects.

I wanna be a stylist, man.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

SILENT TREATMENT

I don't have blue hair anymore.
I don't have listerine anymore either. haha...
I'm bad, but not that bad.
FUN FACT: my dad's a pilot and he can get stopped from flying if he so much as gargled too much of that shit. He's all picking fights with my mum these days about shopping for the alcohol-free kind).

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

MURDER YOUR LITTLE DARLINGS

Yesterday I quit my job.
I feel like this right now....

Last thing you ate: home made pasta

Last thing you drank: chai tea

Last thing you watched: Isao Takahata's 'Grave of the Fireflies'. And I cried and cried and cried. There was a thunderstorm up in my bed last night.

Last thing you bought: some takeout from Bricco Cafe - THE best fast food Italian in town, I have to say. Just waiting until it hits 6.38pm so I can eat it!!! (fasting)

Last thing you returned: An Arabic phrase book

Last thing you dreamt of: running into my now ex-boss at a chinese restaurant cum bowling alley

Last thing you fought with someone about: Honestly? I can't remember the last time I fought with someone.

Last thing you regretted: nothing, but I was thinking if I still had my job, I would probably be able to go to London in October like I had planned.  

Last thing you forgot: how much more exciting life is when you're just wingin' it (yeah, I say that now since I only got paid a week ago)

Last thing you wrote: a resignation letter

Last text you received: I dunno because I lost my phone. AGAIN! And I knew it was going to happen so I didn't splash out a new one, thank FUCK!

Last thing you laughed at: The Fox telling a serious story but with very cute, very flawed English.

Last thing you read: I'm reading a book that's banned here called 'Abu Dhabi: Oil and Beyond'. It's very enlightening. My ex-boss lent it to the team to read hoping it would shed some light on where we're based and where we're writing about. It does, but I no longer work there.

Last thing you felt proud about: having the guts to leave and branch out even before I had a plan. Stupid. But exciting.

Last thing you considered: teaching Creative Writing...

Last person you spoke to: I'm holed up on the couch with my mum catching up. She just got back from trips to Canada and Chicago.

Last thing you saw that you wanted: Kelis' style!

Last thing you stole: some small food items from my mom's kitchen. It's going to be a tough couple months.

Last thing you realised: that I'm actually doing well for someone my age and that I shouldn't freak out so much. I'm 21! I'm just getting started!

Last thing you decided: to take on a couple one-off jobs from my adoring mother until I find my feet. I will now be my mum's personal trainer three times a week, and will double as her style consultant and wardrobe sorter.

 
 
IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

I NEVER WISHED TO BE SAVED

Oh yeah.

And you should've been there at the salon for the revolted looks from Arab women thinking 'but what dashing young man is hoping to sweep a rapidly aging young woman off her feet? Poor her. She has no idea.'

I stuck out my tongue at one thinking 'poor them!'

I did the whole navy blue tra-la-la just over a month ago - pic when I can be bothered.

Note the striped nails to match. Purely unintentional.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

PICTURES OF HOME

I've been dreaming of seating a lot over the past few months. I guess it's a new home (studio) owner (renter) thing...

Above are my favourites at the ridiculously swanky Fairmont Hotel opposite my house. Sometimes I just go sit in their lobby with the cheapest beverage I can find on the menu just to enjoy them. I even already have the contact for the chair buyers and will spit out shitloads to grab those rope ones before anyone else does the next time the hotel does a design/decorating overhaul.

But like Fairmont furniture, rent in Abu Dhabi is merciless, and I don't have shitloads.

So I was well excited when I stumbled upon my very own chair project one day on the bus home from work. I somehow managed to find a pair of dusty wing-backed armchairs perched on the edge of a construction site one day. And with some less than flawless Arabic conversation with the labourers - thanks to the boyf - I got them for free (AND they put them in the back of the car for me!). Since then, dumpster diving has become my new thing.

BEFORE...

MIDWAY...at the upholsterer's

MOVING DAY!!!...

TODAY!!!...

WITH ITS SISTER!!!

Very much in love! I almost never sit on them, or let anyone sit on them. If I do, I'm constantly vigilant for spills and stains coming from their person......that's how much.

Seriously though, Abu Dhabi is the best place to dumpster dive because it's one of the most wasteful cities in the world. My daily 30 minute jogs around my hood on an evening reveal many a secondhand pleasantry! I always come home with some great junk or other that keeps The Fox's eyeballs rolling.

P.S. Speaking of chairs, while I was away on holiday last week, someone replaced my comfy office swivel chair with a uncool, uncomfy stationary one, and I am not at all pleased....but with these babies, I easily let that slide by the end of the day.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

I'M GONNA TAKE YOU FOR WORSE OR BETTER

I have to admit, I'm back on this thing a lot sooner than I had expected, but this really great girl emailed me last week with the sweetest words about my blog, and she made me realise that there are still people out there reading and enjoying my bullshit, and I really shouldn't deny them that. Especially not now when I'm about to do tons more craziness.

Like fasting and training for a marathon in the same month. For one. It's just nearing Ramadan time in the UAE and I have decided that I will fast this year. Properly. Last year when I did it, I didn't have a job so it was more a matter of partying all night, sleeping all day then waking up just in time to start eating again around 6-ish. But this time, I have a full time job...a little more than full time since being a journalist often involves many unfortunately very attractive after work engagements...and this time, my office building isn't cutting us fasters any slack. I will be at work surrounded by British expats chowing on beans, eggs and toast in the morning and tuna ciabattas at lunch while trying hard not to swallow my saliva or faint in between typing a really witty paragraph. No food or drink between the hours of 6am and 6pm. No sex...in all its forms (which should be interesting since I now live with my constantly erect Palestinian boyfriend and being off the pill has sparked a similar situation in my loins). And a LOT less booze (sorry, I'm an alcoholic).

I am also pretty big on Muay Thai these days (especially on a Friday morning as punishment for unruly drinking habits the night before) and am about to be honoured with those special fringed shorts the fighters wear, but with a cobra smack on the crotch area to represent the club I roll with. YEAH! So excited about that. 

AND I found a sick tattoo artist in Sharjah that my MT teacher is going to take me to see for my next piece (in case you're wondering why I'm so excited about a fucking tattoo artist, tattoo and piercing parlours are sort of illegal in the UAE and sort of don't exist - it's so bad, I can stop traffic if I leave the house in my bullring).

And it's true what they say about Indians - they know how to make money out of anything and are total businessmen. I'm now rolling with this new girl at work that I'm going to call The Mogul. She has a passion for fashion and money making and despite the way I used to feel about working with other people (pretty much 'NO'), she really gets my ass in gear and things are getting done just BECAUSE someone else is involved. So, although a little distracted from our real work in the office from time to time, we work really well together and we might see this "thing" launch soon. But I won't say anything else just yet. 

So back to that sweet girl who wrote to me...except I have to retrace my steps a little to tell this story right. 

I've been seeing this reiki practitioner some weeks to get my colours cleaned and my body healed and all that (don't ask). And during my last session, he told me that he had a vision of an owl while he was working on me and that I should be aware of them if I see any in the near future. He said the owl was a sign of protection. And I thanked him and left. The following day was when this girl wrote to me. She told me she had just launched her clothing line and I checked it out...and it's pretty cool...Owl prints and all...

"The Owl print was the first made specifically for women, I won’t bore you with the symbolism of the owl at the end of the day it’s a kick arse pattern for kick arse girls. Being black and white it’s great for mix and match and the t-shirts look good tuck in or out, take it and make it your own.
Made from naturally sustainable bamboo a resource that is being used increasingly in the world of fashion. The material itself is light, near translucent and softer than cotton, it’s cool in summer, warm in the winter and feels almost as if you’re wearing liquid gold. If I had my way I’d wrap the world in it.
Its machine washable and suitable for use all year long, save the world one t-shirt at a time!
Blend 70% Bamboo 30% Organic Cotton"

And I just love these other two

 ...couldn't hurt to buy a couple tshirts, right?

 IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

DON'T CALL MY NAME

HIATUS

I took some time off work, and in that time off I...got dumped and got a UTI so far advanced it had me rolling around in bed for a week with high fever, body shivers, heart palpitations, breathing problems and body aches. And I just missed two days off work on top of that. People have been throwing cold water on me, poking me with needles, forcefeeding me, peeling me off of floors...It sounds like a Gaga video but I promise you it wasn't as visually stimulating. So yeah, I think this is called for.

But honestly, it's more than that. I feel like I've outgrown this space. Originally, the idea was to shut it down but I'm the competitive type, and even though I am not striving to do 'Blog of the Month' blogging or be plastered on the sides of buses or billboards (what? :D), I know I'm going to regret no longer being 'part of the loop'. And outside of London, this still is the one space where I feel completely free to be the real goof that I am, because as open-minded as this city wants to be (the same city that Sex and the City 2 is based on, but which refused to let their crew in for filming because "we just don't have sex in our city like that") they still have a long way to go. I've already turned it down several notches, and it's still not enough for these people - I just don't know how much lower I can go. But anyway, another reason I won't shut it down is because what's also great about blogging for me is that it's like producing your own shitty magazine, which in turn works wonders therapeutically as I'm currently working under a slightly unhinged editor.

In conclusion, I am very drugged up and I will probably see you very soon. I just love feeling sorry for myself.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

PATCHIN' THAT SHIT UP

I don't know if it counts as rock star sexy or as plain rude if you drunkenly propose to your girl with a cigarette in one hand and booze in the other, but I'll take it.

Just kidding. He would never marry me. Not unless he valued his manhood.

...Looking over some pictures from last weekend...If I hadn't taken Susan Miller's advice and booked myself in for a mini break at the end of May, then I probably would've fainted last week at work - it was very testing. Not only was one of our main writers off on holiday in London, we moved to the supposed new media hub in town that's actually really so far out of town, you can get lost wandering around in the desert looking for noon time supplements - too much to ask? Jesus, I've been eating ziplock bagged grapes and granola with green tea (and occasionally packaged organic miso soup) everyday for the last week, and it's starting to show. I know, I know, I'm learning a very valuable and wallet-friendly lesson here, but it doesn't really mean shit when it's Print Day and I'm scrambling to piece together another feature because we had to drop the last one due to someone failing to advertise, and everyone's already half past frazzled not because it's 6pm, but because there's no more sugar in the entire office for tea. Needless to say, that weekend getaway to Yas Island replenished my energy levels and I made it through. On the other hand, if I hadn't taken that mini break, I would've had a lot more money to work with this month instead of 1000 dirhams MAX!

But that's when being a journalist becomes the coolest - when you're really down and out but you have a business card file full of reliable clients who will practically suck on your big toe if you so much as mention THINKING about spending time at their establishment for your precious 5 days off. DAY 1 of my 5-day holiday sees me, yes okay, applying for a national ID card (because they're threatening to make my money innaccessible if I don't get one, among other things), returning a leather fringe jacket and neon green crop top because they are just only okay and I'd much rather have some money to feed myself over the next few days, but also meeting with a PR person I actually adore for a 4 star lunch on Radisson Blu. I also have some 'I owe you one' spa treatments and hotel facility day passes lined up over the week that I've been saving up for a time just like this. A bit pathetic, but I think it comes with the territory.  

As for now, I'm just enjoying the fact that I've been lying on my bed for the whole morning, that there's plenty of sugar for tea to go around at home and that I have ample reading material to plough through from way back when I was under the impression that I would still have time to read one novel a week and still work.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

A FELICIDADE

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

TIL THE CLOCK STOPS, TIL THE GAME ENDS

Yes please! From Normann

Last thing you ate: egg fried rice

Last thing you drank: green tea

Last thing you watched: my money disappear

Last thing you bought: 6 months rent

Last thing you returned: probably something from Zara I overexcitedly purchased under the impression that I was skinny

Last thing you dreamt of: my boyfriend cheating on me

Last thing you fought with someone about: being moody

Last thing you regretted: nothing

Last thing you forgot: how big your boobs can get leading up to your period. Big scare this morning.

Last thing you wrote: an article probably

Last text you received: 'I have one thing to say to you Miss Kara. Fantastic....' from my new landlord (!!!!)

Last thing you laughed at: penis conversation. Heck, even the word 'penis' makes me smile. It's a DICK, okay!?

Last thing you read: the latest issue of our mag before it got sent out to the public an hour ago.

Last thing you felt proud about: being part of a publication that just got ranked the number one magazine in the UAE. Champagne and higher pay for everyone...or so we all hope.

Last thing you considered: not going to work tomorrow

Last person you spoke to: The Fox

Last thing you saw that you wanted: a coffee table! Seriously. NOT a pair of shoes.

Last thing you stole: his heart

Last thing you realised: that I am so tied down to this apartment now that I won't be able to travel at all this year. Real bummer. I had big plans: the UK for Download Festival, Lollapalooza in Chicago, Istanbul, surfing and humanitarian acts in Ecuador...

Last thing you decided: to go to work tomorrow 

 

Honourable mentions this week:

the mushroom soup at The One, soup generally, champagne, the perks of being poor, spa treatments, blindfolded dinners, sustainable schools, fitness, polyvore, mothers, surprises, random acts of kindness, tea with milk, dressing better for work, carpooling

 

 

 

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

HALF OF THE TIME WE'RE GONE BUT WE DON'T KNOW WHERE

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!