Okay, first of all (and primarily for the enjoyment of my family), please watch this Chinese propaganda video for the Beijing Olympics and then tell me it's not the spitting-image Mandarin version of "Proud to Be An American." You don't have to sit through all 7 minutes, but crank the sound up and let it get going - wait for it to break down into a capella around 2:30. Honestly, do you not feel it was written (at least in spirit) by Lee Greenwood?! And since we all know the recurring role that song - and occasionally that sentiment - has had in my life, I feel it is important to see the way it translates across cultures. In honor of me coming home in a week, I'd like to nominate it as the springtime heir apparent to the "Moqtada, Moqtada" YouTube hit from Christmas break. (Had to be there - or have to understand the eccentricities of my family.)
Second of all, I saw another blond woman running outside tonight. For the first time in 10 months of living in Dubai. It was AMAZING. She had on short shorts and an iPod and everything. I think I fell in love. Watch out, mean streets of the Middle East - we're taking over, two at a time!
Third of all. Gossip Girl. HOLY CRAP - sh!t is going DOWN. I don't even know if anyone who reads my blog is a GG follower, but woooooooooooooooooooooooow, email me if you are because we need to TALK about who Serena killed and WHY GEORGINA SCARES THE CRAP OUT OF ME and there is no one here with whom I can speculate. Best thing ever? Watching next week's episode on an actual TV in America instead of via iTunes on my work computer in Dubai!
6 days!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
This & That
1. Triathlizing is fun! And more importantly, freaking hard. Photos to come on Facebook but suffice it to say, I finished. And have a new respect for triathletes (esp. in 100F heat). Word.
2. Earnest Ivy League All-American flatmate D made us weekend breakfast this morning. Big deal, you say? Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, buttermilk pancakes, caffe lattes made in his Moka espresso pot (Schmom - LRK talks about the Moka all the time on Splendid Table - now I see why!), and best of all, listening to the latest To the Point podcast on his iPod speakers. It was the cutest, most civilized thing that I have done since living in Dubai, and if I wasn't going home to America in 10 days it would have made me WEEP for the nostalgia and earnestness of it all.
3. I booked tickets yesterday for The Trip to End All Trips with L.Soch this summer. He's coming to Dubai for 2 weeks so once I've showed him all the bedouins/Bentleys/bars he can stand, we're flying to Amman, crossing the King Hussein Bridge into the West Bank, spending a week in Palestine/Israel, and then crossing the border from Eilat into Egypt for a few days in Sinai, ending up in Sharm Al Sheikh where we'll fly back to Dubai via Kuwait. It. Is. Going. To. Be. Freaking. Awesome.
Happy Saturday night!
2. Earnest Ivy League All-American flatmate D made us weekend breakfast this morning. Big deal, you say? Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, buttermilk pancakes, caffe lattes made in his Moka espresso pot (Schmom - LRK talks about the Moka all the time on Splendid Table - now I see why!), and best of all, listening to the latest To the Point podcast on his iPod speakers. It was the cutest, most civilized thing that I have done since living in Dubai, and if I wasn't going home to America in 10 days it would have made me WEEP for the nostalgia and earnestness of it all.
3. I booked tickets yesterday for The Trip to End All Trips with L.Soch this summer. He's coming to Dubai for 2 weeks so once I've showed him all the bedouins/Bentleys/bars he can stand, we're flying to Amman, crossing the King Hussein Bridge into the West Bank, spending a week in Palestine/Israel, and then crossing the border from Eilat into Egypt for a few days in Sinai, ending up in Sharm Al Sheikh where we'll fly back to Dubai via Kuwait. It. Is. Going. To. Be. Freaking. Awesome.
Happy Saturday night!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Princess of Twilight
I feel that I have learned several Life Lessons recently through my various and sundry goings-on in the DXB. I won't talk about the context for them on my blog (ask if you're curious), but they are as follows:
1. I am a Princess of Twilight, and then some (following on from my boss, who is teaching my male + senior colleague to be more underhanded and manipulative, aka a "Prince of Darkness")
2. Always go for the money shot (in other words - if you want something, ask for it - explicitly)
3. Manage your relationships - all of them (or, "those people you're out drinking with on Friday nights? they matter!")
4. Think big-time (especially here: when in Rome, do as the Romans/when in Dubai, make it big)
I'm sure this is all sounds very cryptic, but we'll leave it at this: I have a good friend/mentor here who keeps telling me to "stop thinking like a woman," and I think I'm starting to understand what she means. I may go down as the first person in history to move to the Middle East and become more empowered as a female. Cool!
So with that out of the way, other news! Um, yeah, so yesterday it rained, and we were all like "dude it's raining in the desert in May? sign of the apocalypse!" and then everyone woke up this morning to the news that it was actually government-induced artificial rain. (Sidebar: is it any wonder that I am plotting to become a dark overlord in a place where PEOPLE EVEN MANIPULATE THE FREAKING WEATHER?!) Hilarious.
Also, cross your fingers for me because on Friday morning I'm doing my first-ever triathlon! I was hesitant about the whole "deep-water swim" bit in the Arabian Gulf (and about the prospect of driving to Jebel Ali at 6 AM on a weekend!!!!), but Earnest Ivy League All-American Flatmate D (replacement to Douchey Vapid Argentinean Flatmate J) goaded me into it, and we all know that I am easily goaded into sporting challenges. Unfortunately, my lifestyle (read: gross enormous weight gain) in Dubai means that the main thing which has always appealed to me about triathlizing (fun, multi-functional spandex outfits!) will not be relevant, but... maybe next time, inshallah.
It was too funny though, I went up to the pool on the roof of my building the other night for a training swim, and as I pulled on my brand-new swim cap and squished my goggles down into my eyes, I realized holy crap, this was such a huge part of my life for what, an entire decade, and now it's been an entire decade again since I've done it?! After I finished my workout, I got out of the pool and of course, the call to prayer was echoing all across Satwa and Jumeirah and I looked out over Dubai at night and was like, "Yeah, if my life could have a few less full-circle movie-esque 'look how far I've come' moments right now, that would be great." But it was cool.
So yeah. I'm off to practice riding my borrowed bike to Mar's house for a shisha/catch-up session with the girls!
PS - I'm coming to America in 2 weeks. Have I told everyone that?! NY + TN = let's play!
1. I am a Princess of Twilight, and then some (following on from my boss, who is teaching my male + senior colleague to be more underhanded and manipulative, aka a "Prince of Darkness")
2. Always go for the money shot (in other words - if you want something, ask for it - explicitly)
3. Manage your relationships - all of them (or, "those people you're out drinking with on Friday nights? they matter!")
4. Think big-time (especially here: when in Rome, do as the Romans/when in Dubai, make it big)
I'm sure this is all sounds very cryptic, but we'll leave it at this: I have a good friend/mentor here who keeps telling me to "stop thinking like a woman," and I think I'm starting to understand what she means. I may go down as the first person in history to move to the Middle East and become more empowered as a female. Cool!
So with that out of the way, other news! Um, yeah, so yesterday it rained, and we were all like "dude it's raining in the desert in May? sign of the apocalypse!" and then everyone woke up this morning to the news that it was actually government-induced artificial rain. (Sidebar: is it any wonder that I am plotting to become a dark overlord in a place where PEOPLE EVEN MANIPULATE THE FREAKING WEATHER?!) Hilarious.
Also, cross your fingers for me because on Friday morning I'm doing my first-ever triathlon! I was hesitant about the whole "deep-water swim" bit in the Arabian Gulf (and about the prospect of driving to Jebel Ali at 6 AM on a weekend!!!!), but Earnest Ivy League All-American Flatmate D (replacement to Douchey Vapid Argentinean Flatmate J) goaded me into it, and we all know that I am easily goaded into sporting challenges. Unfortunately, my lifestyle (read: gross enormous weight gain) in Dubai means that the main thing which has always appealed to me about triathlizing (fun, multi-functional spandex outfits!) will not be relevant, but... maybe next time, inshallah.
It was too funny though, I went up to the pool on the roof of my building the other night for a training swim, and as I pulled on my brand-new swim cap and squished my goggles down into my eyes, I realized holy crap, this was such a huge part of my life for what, an entire decade, and now it's been an entire decade again since I've done it?! After I finished my workout, I got out of the pool and of course, the call to prayer was echoing all across Satwa and Jumeirah and I looked out over Dubai at night and was like, "Yeah, if my life could have a few less full-circle movie-esque 'look how far I've come' moments right now, that would be great." But it was cool.
So yeah. I'm off to practice riding my borrowed bike to Mar's house for a shisha/catch-up session with the girls!
PS - I'm coming to America in 2 weeks. Have I told everyone that?! NY + TN = let's play!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Dirty Deira and the Best Night Ever
Oh, hello! Finally enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon (successfully evaded an invitation to go to Wild Wadi with E & Al) so figured I'd post a much-needed catch-up entry.
Life rolls merrily along in the desert despite the gnawing, ever-encroaching fear of summer. And yes, it's already topping out around 100F during the day here, but no, that's not "summer." I haven't had the soles of any of my shoes start melting when they touch the pavement yet, which tells me we've still got a few weeks of sanity left.
Last night was one of the craziest, most fun nights I've had in Dubai. To get out of our typical going-out funk (pretentious clubs, magnums of Moet, the same 100 investment bankers/consultants/Eurotrashy ne'er-do-wells we see everywhere in Dubai) the girls and I planned a "Dirty Deira Pub Crawl" through the Deira neighborhood of "Old" (eg, dating back to the 1970s) Dubai.
The first stop of the crawl ended up being the last, however, because the Marco Polo Hotel's Chikka Grill - Dubai's premier Filipino nightclub - was so insanely fun. We had a slight hitch at the door, when I almost didn't get let in because my skirt was allegedly too short; upon entering and discovering loads of Filipinas showing far more leg than I, we realized the skirt policy was code for "you're a blonde white girl and we can't think of any good reason why you'd want to come here so we assume you're a prostitute and, as such, we don't want to let you in." Hilarious. Oh well - wasn't the first time I've been taken for a hooker in Dubai, won't be the last.
At any rate, once I demonstrated my complete lack of a Slavic accent for an array of different bouncers, we got in and the fun began. I have to say, it was so much fun to hang out at a place in Dubai that was completely unpretentious - or at least not pretentious in the ways I'm used to here. It was dark, it was divey, there was nary a bottle of ultrapremium vodka in sight, and the live band on stage was covering everything from Beyonce to The Mamas and The Papas. The people - 90% Filipino, 9.9% South Asian, .1% white - were just totally there to let loose and have fun. We danced like monkeys for 4 hours straight, and - MUCH TO MY GREAT CHAGRIN - the guys forced me + Dina + Al to enter an official dance-off which involved going on stage under the spotlights and demonstrating our moves to the chorus of "Low" by Flo Rider (Shawty had them apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur / The whole club was lookin' at her / She hit the floor (she hit the floor) next think I know / Shawty got low low low low low low low low), as interpreted by the all-Filipino house band... PLEASE IF YOU KNOW ME, TAKE A MOMENT TO THINK ABOUT THE HILARITY OF THIS SITUATION. THE ONLY APPROPRIATE RESPONSE IS TO WEEP WITH LAUGHTER.
Needless to say we didn't win or even place, but to our credit my British colleague Daz WON the men's dance-off against a competitive field of Flip & Pakistani guys, ensuring us free beer for the rest of the evening. When the club finally started to close up shop around 3 AM, we herded everyone into taxis and went to the nearby Moscow Hotel, whose much-heralded "Rasputin Club" had been the next stop on our original pub crawl itinerary. Sadly, the lights were on there as well, but judging by the aftermath it had been an equally rocking (if demographically different) evening - a must-do for the future.
The whole evening, we were all giddy about how fun it was to do something earnest and real in Dubai. There's so much posturing here - so much pretension and jadedness and judging and being judged - that to just go out and dance and smile and sing your heart out to corny covers of "Love Generation" was just - well, really great.
And with that... a few hours from now I'm getting picked up in the 7-series of a G-town alum who's director at a very successful private equity fund here, and we're going to have drinks at a 5-star hotel and talk about why he should poach me to come work for his fund, all under the guise (which I may or may not have perpetuated) of it being a date.
And so - not with a bang, but with a whimper - the "authentic/earnest" portion of my weekend draws to a close. ;)
Life rolls merrily along in the desert despite the gnawing, ever-encroaching fear of summer. And yes, it's already topping out around 100F during the day here, but no, that's not "summer." I haven't had the soles of any of my shoes start melting when they touch the pavement yet, which tells me we've still got a few weeks of sanity left.
Last night was one of the craziest, most fun nights I've had in Dubai. To get out of our typical going-out funk (pretentious clubs, magnums of Moet, the same 100 investment bankers/consultants/Eurotrashy ne'er-do-wells we see everywhere in Dubai) the girls and I planned a "Dirty Deira Pub Crawl" through the Deira neighborhood of "Old" (eg, dating back to the 1970s) Dubai.
The first stop of the crawl ended up being the last, however, because the Marco Polo Hotel's Chikka Grill - Dubai's premier Filipino nightclub - was so insanely fun. We had a slight hitch at the door, when I almost didn't get let in because my skirt was allegedly too short; upon entering and discovering loads of Filipinas showing far more leg than I, we realized the skirt policy was code for "you're a blonde white girl and we can't think of any good reason why you'd want to come here so we assume you're a prostitute and, as such, we don't want to let you in." Hilarious. Oh well - wasn't the first time I've been taken for a hooker in Dubai, won't be the last.
At any rate, once I demonstrated my complete lack of a Slavic accent for an array of different bouncers, we got in and the fun began. I have to say, it was so much fun to hang out at a place in Dubai that was completely unpretentious - or at least not pretentious in the ways I'm used to here. It was dark, it was divey, there was nary a bottle of ultrapremium vodka in sight, and the live band on stage was covering everything from Beyonce to The Mamas and The Papas. The people - 90% Filipino, 9.9% South Asian, .1% white - were just totally there to let loose and have fun. We danced like monkeys for 4 hours straight, and - MUCH TO MY GREAT CHAGRIN - the guys forced me + Dina + Al to enter an official dance-off which involved going on stage under the spotlights and demonstrating our moves to the chorus of "Low" by Flo Rider (Shawty had them apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur / The whole club was lookin' at her / She hit the floor (she hit the floor) next think I know / Shawty got low low low low low low low low), as interpreted by the all-Filipino house band... PLEASE IF YOU KNOW ME, TAKE A MOMENT TO THINK ABOUT THE HILARITY OF THIS SITUATION. THE ONLY APPROPRIATE RESPONSE IS TO WEEP WITH LAUGHTER.
Needless to say we didn't win or even place, but to our credit my British colleague Daz WON the men's dance-off against a competitive field of Flip & Pakistani guys, ensuring us free beer for the rest of the evening. When the club finally started to close up shop around 3 AM, we herded everyone into taxis and went to the nearby Moscow Hotel, whose much-heralded "Rasputin Club" had been the next stop on our original pub crawl itinerary. Sadly, the lights were on there as well, but judging by the aftermath it had been an equally rocking (if demographically different) evening - a must-do for the future.
The whole evening, we were all giddy about how fun it was to do something earnest and real in Dubai. There's so much posturing here - so much pretension and jadedness and judging and being judged - that to just go out and dance and smile and sing your heart out to corny covers of "Love Generation" was just - well, really great.
And with that... a few hours from now I'm getting picked up in the 7-series of a G-town alum who's director at a very successful private equity fund here, and we're going to have drinks at a 5-star hotel and talk about why he should poach me to come work for his fund, all under the guise (which I may or may not have perpetuated) of it being a date.
And so - not with a bang, but with a whimper - the "authentic/earnest" portion of my weekend draws to a close. ;)
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