ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER HOTEL

I may be on the verge of taking advantage of everyone's Ramadan inspired goodness by begging on the streets but I haven't had much to complain about recently, it seems. Take last weekend, for example, on a private island not so far, far away...

...completely secluded stretches of pristine beach, your own villa with private splash pool and amazing claw food tub, et al. They weren't so keen on letting me off scot free with this review, though, which is why I had to pinch a few bills off mother dearest yesterday. I think the tub (and being greeted in the morning by dozens of elegantly grazing gazelles) was worth it though.

This weekend, I am here.

doing fuck-all...

Business chain, heart of dirty down town, kiddie-sized pool, so-so food...

But pretty nice rooms, gorgeous city views, free wireless...

and my favourite type of lighting!

Anyway, I am off to enjoy my room serviced suhour (the later than late late night snack Muslims indulge in before fasting at sunrise - yes, I am fasting this Ramadan. It's going really well, in case you were interested).

RAMADAN KAREEM!

IȾ iϟ Ẇrittɇn.

I'M GONNA NEED YOU TO SAY SOMETHING

It's so much easier to ease back into blogging with the help of a song....

And with that sung, let us vent...

"So she finally decides to show up...what fucking nerve! Abandons us like a Friday night cum shot and expects us to congregate again like nothing ever happened...which nothing did for over 2 bloody weeks! Seriously. The. Nerve."

Well. I hope that covers it but feel free to make good use of my comment box because even if you're typing my ear off about how shitty I am as a blogger, it beats only receiving junk from Japanese spammers.

Recently I've been:

sleeping in seedy whore-infested motels in Manila - getting more tattoos - partying on the beach by moonlight in Boracay - slurping duck embryos straight from the egg like shots - wearing denim shirts, feathers and large tie-dyed scarves - playing tennis again - fantasizing about watching my copy of Woodstock: The Director's Cut...but not watching it - trying to pick the perfect moment to watch it - buying items for my new accessories business - collecting bank from the first couple items sold - trying on fancy jalabiyas (arabic gowns) to the chagrin of many save for the store keeper and myself - speaking lots and lots of arabic - wondering if I am going to become a muslim just because I am ANYTHING BUT - but then drinking lots and lots of alcohol - eating lots and lots of restaurant food due to a huge surge in demand for me to do reviews - getting chunky because of said reviews and rice-crazed Filipino dishes - enforcing another strict fitness/diet regime as a result - getting tagged in way too many unbecoming photos - shopping at Oyshko for pyjama bits and bobs to wear out and about - flipping through the latest UK Elle on the beach with The Fox and having him give me style advice - shaking hands on the idea to take a joint trip to Zara/Zara Men and choose pieces for each other - actually trusting him on this one because he likes girls in baggy tshirts and mini skirts - catching myself off guard talking about The Fox too much like this....that sort of stuff.

And this week I'm:

taking a sushi-making class - interviewing a taxi driver about his harsh Abu Dhabi reality - reviewing another restaurant - enjoying a complimentary 3 night stay at a new amazing hotel - thinking of checking out like a rock star - looking into a short stint in Jordan - buying tickets for my friends' gig with Sir Bob Geldof in Dubai next weekend - doing laundry - probably returning 2/3 of the Oyshko items.

And right now:

I promise to try my best to post at least once a week.

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO?

These T. Anthony Ltd. pieces make me want to hop on a flight pronto! (but it has to be in business or first...). Carmen Sandiego comes to mind.

[A show of hands if you remember her! YEAH! (should've been her for Halloween)]

Speaking of travel, when I was over in LA, a letter came there in the mail addressed to both Panda and I. It was an invitation to our friend's wedding in the Philippines in February. So, we're dates...which, might I remind you, as of 2 days ago, we are no longer together (we had even planned to celebrate Valentine's Day there together). So it's all pretty icky at this stage but I've already made up my mind to still pursue this. After all, it isn't about us; it's about our friends getting married. Also, as I turn 21 in January (lol Harry, fuck you in advance for saying 'oh yeah, I forgot, you're a baby'), I'm going to make a mini self-discovery vacation out of it; one which Filipino Panda probably thinks is my way of saying I'm planning to 'get my groove back' with a new Filipino titled after another animal. I assure you, that is not the case. Panda and I are probably just going to end up rebounding each other, anyways. Then more goodbyes and tears.

RANT ALERT! RANT ALERT! RANT ALERT!

RIGHT! SORRY! BACK TO MY BIRTHDAY! Well, I hear the Philippines is the place to get your procedures done so I'm getting breasts.

Lies. I'm going to clean and bleach my teeth, is all. I think great teeth really transform a person's face. And perfect eyebrows. So, as your girl's eyebrows are thoroughly threaded to perfection every month and a half, teeth come next. The rest, I'll just yoga-fy my way out of. I believe my mother wants to come along and get something done herself but I shouldn't be telling you that. And she probably won't.

After that, Mistress Ivy and I were doing a bit of talking and we're thinking Burning Man/San Francisco/South East Asia next summer. But of course, that is because I expect to be jobless still by then (that would be nice, and not).

And yes, to all those wondering what happened to London this month, that's still in the works. Hold tight...and clear a space on your living room floor.