... or in this case, when a sheikh becomes a crown prince.
That's right, the big news on everyone's lips in DXB this week is that HH $heikh H@mdan bin Moh@mmed bin R@shid Al M@ktoum (aka... my future husband) has officially been appointed Crown Prince by his father, $heikh Moh@mmed, and thus will someday become the next ruler of Dubai. It's all over the news, all over the editorials (shockingly, none of them are anything less than glowing), and basically all over town - including, but not limited to, the walls of my friend Jojo's cafeteria at work (they unveiled a special "$heikh H@mdan becomes Crown Prince" mural within days of the announcement), and special congratulatory poster inserts in the Khaleej Times, the city's #2 paper (apparently fights were breaking out as people tried to snap up their copies).
In reality, the announcement changes nothing because everyone already knew that H@mdan was the chosen one (and had the marketing campaign to prove it), but it's nice to be able to celebrate it officially with some new eye candy. And it makes for a particularly hilarious contrast to Super Tuesday in the States, to be living in a place where one person basically claps his hands and voilà, a new leader is chosen. I could go into some kind of musings here about how this is the difference between government by the people and government for the people (Subtitle: Musings on Why Democracy Might Not Be the Answer for the Arab World, Because Let's Be Honest, Enlightened Despotism Actually Kind of Works, and If You Don't Believe Me You Can Just Ask Plato), but I'll save that for another time.
(And oh yeah, civil liberties. I always have to remember that you don't usually get those as part of the Enlightened Despot package. "50% more oil, FREE! ... personal freedoms not included.")
Oh man, look at what a politico I am today. Ha. In other related (but thankfully non-political) UAE news, we're getting ready to march into the record books with the upcoming auction sale of the most expensive license plate in history. Special thanks to M.Hard for drawing my attention to the fact that the story made it all the way to CNN... bet H@mdan was jealous of the international media coverage.
So that's what's new with Dubai. What's new with me? Last weekend Jojo, Al, and I took an extremely exciting roadtrip to Umm Al Quwain, the least populous emirate and in my eyes, the most obscure/lo-budg. This was a momentous event because it means I have now visited alllllllllllllllll 7 emirates that make up the UAE (keep in mind that the country's the size of Maine, so it's not quite the achievement it sounds) and because of the wonders we found there: cheap, luxe, ladies-only day spas on the beach, an unlicensed liquor store, and ... well, a lot of interminable driving through the desert in the middle of a shamal (sandstorm). This might have been more "exciting" and less "terrifying" if we had thought to take a bigger car than Jojo's Peugeot 206 (total weight: 17 lbs), but it was strangely exhilarating to think we could be blown off the road and into the dunes with the bedu at any time.
What else is new. I hosted a Girly Dinner Party on Saturday night in honor of not having to watch the Stupor Bowl here, which if I do say so myself was quite a success and was a triumphant return to cooking/entertaining/stressing for a crowd, à la the days of "Domesticity Wow!"
And on that note, things are not good at home thanks to the one-month tenancy of "Fire," Roommate Javs' 22 year-old aspiring-model girlfriend (so-nicknamed because she was voted "Miss Fire" in the Miss Earth South Africa 2007 Pageant... thanks, Google). She moved to Dubai to be with him in early January and seems to be completely and totally unable to find a flat, or do anything else for herself, for that matter... cue scenes of her prancing around in Juicy Couture sweats as Javs teaches her how to use the washing machine. I am really honestly trying to be goodhearted about it - I swear to God I am - and don't get me wrong, I love having someone to pose all my fake nail questions to, so I'm learning a lot from her (the difference between acrylic and gel is that gel is softer but more breakable; I can paint them, as long as I use non-acetone remover when I take it off). But if I had wanted to live with a fresh-out-of-(beauty?)-college Gisele-wannabe who flat-irons her hair while reading Nigella Lawson's How to Be a Domestic Goddess (hey, at least she can read), I would have targeted a WHOOOOOOLE different demographic when I was looking for a flatmate.
/ end rant. And on that note, I'll wrap things up. Happy Super Fat Tuesday to all of you! (It will be my Lenten goal to love my aspiring model neighbor as myself - wish me luck.)
