SYMPHONY OF DESTRUCTION

One of my first purchases for the year, surprisingly from Forever 21.

There is a thin, tainted film of something lining the back of my tongue, and I've tried every drink in the cabinet trying to get rid of it. I don't even remember the last time I got a cold or got seriously sick. As a result, I've spent the majority of the day lying across various pieces of furniture. Haven't showered, haven't brushed my teeth. AND, my period - if I decide it's not a better idea to just get pregnant - should be arriving exactly on my birthday in a couple days. 

2011? Just. Ew.

Anyways, Domino is about to start on TV. Time to do some more lying around.  

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

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.

DIRTY CHRISTMAS CAROLLING

Songs...

Listen...GnR is stil amazing, by the way. I was blown away nearly to tears at their show the other day.

My brother is coming home for Christmas tonight after his first semester of Uni. Very excited to see the freshman year changes...

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

LINE IN THE SAND

 That's why I haven't been writing.

Guns 'n' Roses tonight, Slackline Yoga tomorrow, Motocross Saturday and Fencing on Sunday.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

KEEPING SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET IS A WASTE OF SPACE

 YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 YAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...AND I JUST LOVE THIS SCARF!!!!

EATING: eggs lovingly made by the mummy

DRINKING: sorrel with vodka - 'tis the season to be merry, y'all!

SINGING: Snoop Dogg's 'Sexual Eruption' haha

READING: Ernesto Che Guevara: Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolutionary War

WEARING: big scarves that cover my entire outfit, denim shirts, bell bottoms, badly made bras, hair ribbons and frilly blouses with Halloween bats on them

WONDERING: ...where the hell my paycheck is?

ANTICIPATING: getting paid, Creamfields, Guns 'n' Roses, my next swap social this weekend, Fencing on Wednesday, camping in the desert next week and Motocross next weekend!

LOVING: one dirham coins, public transportation, sorrel and vodka, a kitchen savvy boyfriend, days off, odd jobs here and there that bring in random, much-needed cash

WILL BE MISSING: those black pointy tipped sunglasses I wear all the time (in the style of the Linda Farrow/Wang ones) - They broke last night. Also, my boyfriend is moving out to some special accommodation in the desert so I will only be seeing him once a week from January. That's gonna ache like seeing your pet fish die over and over again *droopy face*

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

POUND FOR POUND

two things I just can't get enough of right now. Get on it.

Other than that...I am dying to go to Creamfields Abu Dhabi. I am dying to see Guns 'n' Roses in December. Machete has been on my radar for eons and I still have yet to see it (did you? Is it good?). Excited to possibly go home for a short break before Christmas. Want to finish my can of Stella but it's from my dad's special stash and the folks just got home. I wish my mum would just cut the act and give me the bike we both picked out for me for Christmas - could really use it. I am adoring my tiny Christmas tree, which I'll soon start decorating with obscure things. I am sort of panicking about my new workload at the mag but the pay raise will make it worth it. Fight training has been awesome - hit up the gym for 1.5 hours of torture first thing this morning and surprised my trainer. Only problem is I am becoming more violent. Took my spike bracelet for a spin today. Mouthed off a local - a total no no around these parts. Mouthed off a bus driver. Probably shouldn't have because he works my neighbourhood. Nearly mouthed off a girl over-eying my man. Thought better of it because she's not even his type. The boyf will meet my father tonight at his birthday party. I will drink a lot and post all the little details on Twitter. Be there. I have been dressing well. Kayaking on the mangroves a little too early in the morning. Hence, goodnight.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

THE NOT SO DAILY OUTFIT STRIKES AGAIN

Oh, but I do sit down to some serious work too! It's just that my office is way cooler than yours. It's anywhere I fucking want it to be. Today, I missed my mum so it's at her apartment.

LOOKING: Like a cute and willing Nylon intern in a lot of fucking bows. Blouse - New Look, Skinnies - hand me downs from my little sis (yes, correct), Flats - Dune. Upon waking up, I was instantly aware that pretending to play the part of a preppy little secretary was the only way I was going to get anything done today. I've been super lazy these last few days, and it's because my nearly severed middle finger is just too distracting!! And pityful! Yeah, I sliced through a third of it while attacking some cheese (a no carb diet will do that to you). I think I told you this already though. As much as I love having The Fox do my dishes for me because of it, I am dying for it to heal so I can get back in the ring! I honestly do miss sweat stink boxing gloves.

READING: David Sedaris' 'Holidays On Ice'; just in time for the festive season, even if in it he does a stellar job showing Christmas up for how hilariously miserable and meaningless it really is. If you ask me, he is the sort of dinner guest I would bring to the Christmas table.

DRINKING: Coronitas! Yes! Stupidly small bottles of Corona made for, oh, I dunno, children? They're way cuter than children though and you shouldn't have to bat an eyelid to figure out which one I'd adopt first.

WATCHING: Well, the last thing I went out of my way to see was 'The Social Network'. Underwhelming, just like the December issue of Australian Vogue. hmph. As for the last thing I didn't even have to get out of bed to see? Se7en on DVD. Love it. What I really am dying to see? Robert Rodriguez's 'Machete'. I have been waiting for this since it was just a wee fake trailer in 'Grindhouse'. It has finally landed. Is it true The Lohan stars as a gun wielding nun? Like, what the fuck's not to love?

SMELLING OF: Some Hugo Boss scent or other. Too chicken to spritz the teardrop of a portion left in my Chanel bottle. Meanwhile, praying for Tom Ford's 'Black Orchid' under the tree this year.

EATING: spicy tomato with rice soup. I swear it's like crack in a can....but red with a soupy texture.

DREAMING OF: Going home to my bed. My Fox-y sense is tingling. I think he's at my doorstep.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

PILLOW TALK

My boss called me up the other night and asked me if I wanted to write a report on some yacht race happening in Dubai. I get there half an hour late and next thing you know I'm being whipped by a massive entourage through the VIP entrance to a ritzy yacht - I kept all of them from enjoying the first 30 minutes of what followed; mini course after mini course of the kind of food that was clearly hidden from me all my life, that alongside unlimited Moet and Coronitas til sun down (DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THESE? CUTEST THINGS EVER!!!). And you can bet your bottom dollar I grabbed one of those designer SPF lotions fanned out on that silver platter at the entrance. Typical freelancer behaviour.

What my boss failed to mention was that I was covering the Louis Vuitton Trophy and that I was going to get on board one of the vessels to race as the 18th man. Didn't happen, though, due to crappy winds and major race delays. Not that I minded, obviously! But I could've gotten many more flutes down the chute if I wasn't so busy being a professional journalist (and the only one not carrying any LV anywhere on their person) preparing to compete on the high seas - aka painfully sober.

Still, a great day had. Even better, after declining a ride home because no one knew that I had travelled all the way from another Emirate aboard a public bus for two hours to get there, I arrived home to find lovely noises in my kitchen - COOKING! The Fox had a whole feast in the works. AND it was carb free (yeah, this again...). I love him, oh I do, I do! The only problem is he made a big egg breakfast again for me this morning even though it was his first day back to work from vacay (and no carbs in there either) so it means I've got to come up with something extra special in the next few hours.

Oh, to hell with it. I'll let the pillow do the talking.

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.

YOU'RE ALRIGHT

Friday night in.
My idea of piggin' out.

The fam's off in Toronto setting up my little brother for college so The Fox and I are vacationing in their apartment on the weekends, throwing dinner parties, playing Truth or Dare and cards, watching The Tudors and The Hills and fighting about whether one particular time is better to go to the gym rather than stay home and watch a dumb movie. He's asleep on the sofa and I'm chowing on my lonesome with some back to back Beverly Hills 90210 - something The Russian boat dweller lent me. And I swear it was purely coincidence that I started watching it just in time for 90210 Day.

I am thinking of quitting my job, not only because my bosses don't like/trust me, but because now that I know that, I get a feeling it's a great time to dive into all my purely passion driven projects, even if they involve next to no money. I'll probably go consult Susan Miller after this.


[UPDATE] Lo and behold, Susan Miller says this month is a great month to quit my job and change my focus in my career sector; even study again! 

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

GETS ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIME

A very Tim Burton Thursdsay night...

with Castle lager and cool clothing courtesy Noi.se magazine.

Fox and I just had an unofficial spat tonight - probably because he found me actually having fun with a guy friend - so I'm typing away at this in the dark in the company of his turned back. I dig the word 'spat'.

Fuck him.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL

Unfortunately, I wake up at ungodly weekend hours now so here's what I've just done. No bloggers have ever tagged me in that 'What's in Your Bag?' thingie so I thought I'd take the liberty of tagging myself this morning because

a) I was frantically searching for something anyway so my bag's contents were already littering the hotel room

b) I didn't find that something, which was a USB stick containing some new 'fashion' photos I took for the blog

c) I thought it would make for interesting insight in a few years time as to what my life was like via the contents of my bag

d) It would show that I don't really give a fuck that I was left out of a fun blogosphere ritual and that I'm shameless enough to do it on my own

So here goes...

WHAT'S IN MY BAG, MINUS THE BAG (I'll do bags later)

1. Two sets of headphones, one regular external noise cancelling pair, one water/sweat proof pair for the gym. I keep it on me at all times these days because I've stupidly started training for a half marathon with my co-workers and we got a good corporate deal for the gym down the street from where we work.

2. (At this stage) a VERY old school 30GB iPod, still going strong

Currently listening to: Deep Purple - Mandrake Root

Get on it.

3. Hand sanitizer. For someone who spontaneously asks her boyfriend to come lie in the spit/shit/piss ridden grass with her and who has no problem abiding by the three second rule and drinking water from the tap, I feel kind of silly carrying this, but I mean, you gotta keep SOMEthing clean, I guess. Do you carry it? Just curious...

4. Planner. I love planning.

5. One of many circular sixties sunnies.

6. A painfully old Motorola phone. In the last 5 months, I have either lost or had stolen three mobile phones. Touch screens, cute bumble bee coloured Blackberry-esque Samsungs, all sorts...in taxis, on highways, in bars...hence a re-connection with this trooper I used in the UK. The battery only lasts about halfway through one 10 minute conversation, mind you, but hey, text messaging is still a handy way to keep in touch, right?

7. Digital dictaphone - a journalist's best and worst companion

8. Office building access card

9. Travel-sized bottle of CK Summer - I love the CK Summer scents so a while back I picked up a travel-sized collection of the last few released. Speaking of perfumes though, I kinda dig Thierry Mugler's 'Alien', but I never quite imagined myself wearing a scent called 'Alien'? Ah, fuck it.

10. (underneath bottle) those nose blotcher thingies for greasy-faced people. Thank you, daddy, for such a gifted T-zone!

11. Wallet containing 500 borrowed dirhams, a silly library card-esque laminated Trinidadian driver's license, a new Emirates Identity Card so no bouncers will laugh at my library card license anymore, a newly activated bank card (had mine stolen recently), an expired HSBC card (guys, obviously, you're fired so stop sending me mail), Waterstone's card, business cards, photos of exes it's probably time I stashed elsewhere, Chinese, American and Filipino dollars (interesting...a combination of my ex's origins), and a loyalty card for the Pinkberry of Abu Dhabi  known as Yogoday (HEY, THEY DO TAKEOUT NOW!)

12. Two sets of house keys - mine for my new studio, the other for my parent's place becuse my dad's convinced I'll be back soon. Works wonders when they're out of town though.

13. Cup'O'Soup and green tea, just in case I feel faintish during fasting, although my stomach pretty much calls it a day from noon after realising that furiously grumbling has been getting it nowhere.

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.

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.

DIE AND GO TO HEAVEN

There's no denying I've been a bad blogger, and all I have to say about it is that it has recently been drawn to my attention that I am a workaholic...so much so that a couple weeks ago, I ordered some scrambled eggs from the cafe at work on my way into the office, paid for it, ran up to get set up on my Microsoft Word, swore I collected it 15 minutes later when it was ready, ripped my way through it with glee and was told the day after that it was still there in a bag behind the counter waiting for me. Now if I've been working so hard that I'm imagining eating things (and doing god knows what else - shitting? fucking?), then I should be catwalk ready and bound by now, but bulges one through seven on my stomach suggest otherwise. 

Today, however, for some miraculous reason, they've let me off early - Tuesday is print day so we typically listlessly roam the office hallways well past 8pm waiting for fuck-ups to pop up on the printer and wondering if anyone would miss us if we skipped over to the hotel next door for a shot of tequila. So here I am..for you. But where the fuck are you? No more Japanese spammers, please! I want actual reader commentary!

Fuck, I'm a mess. I have actually been forced into accepting that a holiday is long overdue for me. Susan Miller has foreseen a few days of rest for me this month. Umm, really? Where? Apparently, it's this weekend so I am now grumbling as I book myself and The Fox in for a retreat. 

Other things I'm doing: hardcore hatha yoga by candlelight (found an amazing teacher), plastic bottle recycling (or rather I have a heap of bottles under my bed pretty much getting the same treatment as regular waste, AND I am now being referred to as the girl with the drinking problem at work (probably a double entendre) - people are sneaking empty bottles onto my desk while I'm away on one of my overly long leaks), carpooling, home finishings shopping, obsessing over this article and feeling more and more pointless with every paragraph.

And now instead of enjoying the softness of my fat ass as I sit on it doing nothing (which I never have the liberty of doing on a Tuesday), I am going to go to the gym, then walk (not carpool) over to yoga class. See you on the skinny side.

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.