Clifford Is Going to School and Is Getting Married

Three Months and Counting!

2011-12-24T16:36:00.003-08:00

Since my last post, I have been busy with school, work, and also getting ready to get hitched. It's stressful, but of course I am incredibly happy. I haven't been super fast at getting the news out, but believe it or not I am getting married THREE MONTHS FROM TODAY!! Please see the above save-the-date card if you don't believe me.

I have also started a wedding blog to help keep you all up to date with wedding news: www.teammmadams.blogspot.com (Please note the three m's). So far it has another copy of the save-the-date, registry info, and a map to reception venue.

I will be harvesting addresses soon, so if you are not sure if I have your updated address, please shoot me an email, or comment below so I can email you.

Max and I look forward to sharing our Big Day with you!

One Word

2011-11-12T11:46:00.004-08:00

If I could choose one word to describe my relationship with max, I would select "surprise." Because all in all, this whole thing has been a surprise. First of all I was pretty astonished to find a someone worth talking to on that one dating site, and even more astonishing was that he wanted to talk to me too.

The good thing is that I like surprises, especially good ones, and Max is very talented at surprising me. Even from the day we met in person. I may have mentioned that I invited him to my cousin's wedding reception, and thanks to some cell phone difficulties, I didn't know he was coming until I saw him walk through the door. My heart sped up and melted all at the same time.

(picture courtesy of my cousin Monica. How awesome is it that I have a picture of the day we met?)

As our dating progressed Max found other ways to surprise me. He sent me my favorite flowers for my birthday; he had the above picture framed for me on our third-month-anniversary; he has sent quite a few packages; and my favorite: when he visits for the weekend he always leaves hidden notes for me. A practice I have tried to adopt as well.

I know he's wonderful, but all the time I feel so surprised at how kind, generous, and thoughtful he is. And he's so good lookin' to boot!

Four weeks ago during a family campout, Max wanted to take a walk. We always take walks together so it seemed like we were going to fulfill one of our traditions.

While on the walk he started talking all lovey-dovey, and while doing so, he surprised me by going down on one knee and asked if I would marry him. Like all of his surprises, it was completely unexpected. Naturally, there was just one word I could say in response:

"Yes!"

School Is Hard

2011-11-08T19:43:00.004-08:00

I've promised to do the Big Catch Up, but today is not that day. I just wanted to explain why I haven't delivered on my promise. The reason is: Midterms. Maybe you remember them and they haunt your dreams to this day. This will happen to me, I just know it. I have had so many big projects due all at once, and not only have they kept me up literally all night long, they have kept me from my blog.

Here's a teaser to keep your interest piqued in what I will write about hopefullythisweekendprovidedIdon'tgetdumpedonbymyinstructorsagain.

Also, I totally chopped my hair all off. Pictures to come.

Overachievers, Please Try Harder

2011-06-30T12:05:00.004-07:00

Another quarter has come and gone, and I am officially done with my first year as an Interior Design student. I have already mentioned how much I love it, and I think it loves me too. Yes, I am still getting good grades.

However, I don't really like school's grading policy. Instead of giving A's, B's, and C's we get grades like 4.0, 3.9, 3.8...you get the picture. So my final grades for this quarter were: 4.0 for Textiles, 3.8 for Architectual Graphics, and 3.7 for Rendering. Technically these are all A's, and I can't help but be pleased about that. But when I look at my accumulative GPA for the year, I have a 3.87. It looks like a got a B somewhere, but I didn't. A 3.7 is my lowest grade, which is still an A, but it doesn't look as nice as a 4.0. This is very frustrating. It is no longer enough just to get an "A" but now it has to be a nice, solid, perfect-looking 4.0.

P.S. The image above is a picture I took of my final project for Architectual Graphics where we learned how to draw 2 point and 1 point perspectives. If it wasn't for the stupid models we did earlier in the quarter I would have gotten a 4.0 in that class too.

A Word About Tattoos

2011-06-25T08:49:00.003-07:00

Sometimes I see a really cool tattoo and think, "If I could come up with something that cool, I would so get a tattoo." But I really wouldn't because 1. the prophet said no and 2. I'm not a huge fan of needles. Sufficeth to say, I am not ever contemplating getting one. After all, they are kind of permanent.

That being said, sometimes I do enjoy body art. I worked with a girl at the bakery in NYC who had some clever tattoos that could stand the test of time. I am even slightly proud to say that I helped pick out one of them. (She wanted an homage to the home state of Washington, and instead of an apple, I suggested blackberries. It looks cool.) However, not everyone can pick out great tattoo designs. It takes a truly creative and inventive individual. Because if you aren't, it could be disastrous. You know what I'm talking about. You've seen it.

Case in point: (and I soooo wish I had a picture of it) a middle-aged lady came into the store sporting a tattoo on her foot that caused me to stare for a while. It was a very two-dimensionally stylized hopping frog. The kind of frog you would see in children's fabrics or on a rubber stamp (for her sake, maybe it was a stamp?). The following picture can give you an idea of what I'm talking about. Just picture it bright green and with a bow on its head.

I thought to myself, "Really? This is how you've chosen to decorate your body. FOREVER? Did the tattoo artist laugh when you picked this out because honey, I for sure would have. In fact, I'm laughing now."

So consider this a warning to all would-be tatted-up individuals: Choose wisely.

A Bright, Shiny Weekend

2011-06-19T11:41:00.018-07:00

Well it was two weeks ago, but since I promised to write about my weekend with Max I thought I'd better get right down to it. Especially before I forget all the fun details. I really looked forward to Max's visit. Even though we had already spent hours getting to know one another by phone, text, and Skype I wanted to solidify this attachment by actually hanging out with him. I was nervous about seeing him again. I worried that I wouldn't feel the same way, or that my parents wouldn't like him. Or worse, that they would like him and then he would immediately repulse me. Thankfully, my parents and the pets all liked him, and I continue to like him still. Additionally, he continues to like me.

Anywhooo here is our fun weekend. In a list format:

1. There may be some truth the the phrase that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Although this hasn't worked for me in the past, I decided to try again. This time I chose the meals and my mom made them. We ate pretty good at home with marinated steaks, cinnamon rolls, pie, tandoori chicken, caramel popcorn. Not all at once, of course. And I think it worked!

2. One of the biggest challenges I faced that weekend was finding a way to entertain Max. I haven't really explored Spokane so I was at a bit of a loss, and I did not want to spend all weekend at the movie theater. Thankfully the super-cute Browne's Addition neighborhood was sponsoring two events: Artfest and Elkfest. (The latter being a music event with really bad rock bands.) Artfest was not exactly filled with art that I would want to purchase, but it provided one thing that I wanted for the weekend: props for aiding in my quest for good get-to-know-you questions and topics. I'm not so good at asking people about themselves; I consider myself more of an observer. Thus, I need props. This is what I learned: he wants his own stuff to do wood working and build furniture, he wants to know more about furniture styles throughout history, he appreciated the photography, and like me he wasn't interested in the rest of the stuff.

3. Even though Artfest and Elkfest as events were a bit of a bust, the two festivals were in a lovely neighborhood with fantastic historic homes. Many were in great shape, and it was fun to spy in the windows...except for that one that had creepy dolls in the window. (More on creepy dolls later.)

4. Max is so secure in his masculinity that he not only wanted to go, but also enjoyed what I already referred to as the estrogen-filled activity that was the Farm Chicks antiques fair. It was a really cool fair with so many antiques and vintage treasures that even though we just casually looked around, we stayed for over five hours. But we did not leave empty-handed: we bought spicy Cowgirl Chocolate; he purchased a vintage Hermes scarf for me; neckties and a belt buckle for himself, and he managed to get my hand into his.

5. The antiques fair was brimming over with gorgeous furniture pieces, bikes, and stuff (for lack of a better word), but there was also a large quantity of creepy dolls. Why are dolls so creepy looking?

6. To replenish ourselves from a day filled with antiques, we ate a late lunch in a milk bottle...or rather a building that looked like a milk bottle. We also looked at vintage cars, and saw grown ladies ride tricycles.

7. We next headed to the downtown portion of Spokane, and looked at the Spokane Falls. It was a rare hot and summery day so I thought standing by the river would cool us off. It did. One rogue wave totally splashed me. For a moment, I thought we were at Niagara Falls.

8. To dry off we walked all over Spokane. We burned off every ounce of good home-cooked delights, and the fries from lunch. I showed Max a few of Spokane's highlights, like the gigantic Red Flyer wagon in the park. After the shock of seeing something so cool/odd we found a secluded bench for some restful getting to know you stuff. That's all the details I'm going to give on that. Wink wink.

9. We ate Indian Food for dinner because we both like Indian food. Max encouraged me to have an appetizer and I finally tasted a samosa. Why did I wait so long to eat one? Yumyum.

10. The sly ladies at church came up to me and asked if that handsome gentleman with me was my brother. They just wanted to know if he was my boyfriend. Which he is.

11. My favorite part of the weekend was the 3+ mile walk we took Sunday afternoon. For a few short hours it felt as though the planet slowed its rotation, and stretched out my final afternoon with Max (for the weekend. There will be other weekends and more afternoons.)

12. We also hung out with some neighborhood goats.

13. Max didn't seem to mind that I totally kicked his trash playing card games with the family. He is new to the game Hand and Foot, so I bet he's practicing to have his revenge.

14. Monday morning before he left, and before I went back to school, he came over to have breakfast with me one more time. It was hard to concentrate at school and work all day, and all week long.

15. I can't wait for 4th of July weekend.

The Bees Knees

2011-06-07T20:49:00.008-07:00

*p.s.andbytheway, I have no idea why the font is so weird today.

Now that you have recovered from the shock of my online dating announcement, I thought I'd go back to the beginning to tell you how we got to last weekend. Along with pictures!!

Around the start of the new year, out of curiosity, I began the process of having a profile on one of those LDS dating sites, heretofore referred to as "The Planet." I was immediately...horrified. Even without a picture or a populated profile (do you dig the alliteration?) I started receiving messages from people wanting to connect even though they knew absolutely nothing about me. Does anyone else find that creepy, or is that my overly-sensitive creep meter? Additionally, I didn't really find any profiles that were interesting. So I kind of gave it up until some pleading from my parents, who were concerned about my lack of social activity, and kindly paid for me to talk to people on the site. I was still a little wary, but one profile stood out enough for me to give it a go:

This isn't Max's profile picture...this is him and my cat Mr. Bingley, who adores Max.

So I wrote up something cute and charming, posted my picture, and hoped for the best. The next morning I had a message from Max, who lives in the Seattle area. And so for a month we exchanged emails and even had some fun live chats. He pretty much had zero competition, because everyone else who contacted me was either over 60, from a developing nation, or just plain not interesting.

Fast forward to Easter weekend and my cousin's wedding. I thought that perhaps since I would be in the area, I should try to meet Max. So, I sent an email to invite him to the wedding reception, which is quite possibly the most awkward way to meet someone ever. Besides perhaps a funeral. My phone was not working at all, so I had absolutely NO IDEA he was going to come until he actually showed up. My heart totally skipped a beat when I saw him walk through that door. He's totally cute in person.

We hit it off famously, finding conversation natural and easy. It wasn't even awkward. After the reception we walked around Seattle and threw around potential opportunities to see each other again. Things like the Farm Chicks antiques show here in Spokane. You just can't help admire a guy secure enough in his masculinity to agree to go to this estrogen-fest.

But before he showed up at my doorstep on Friday afternoon, we got to know eachother by texting, phone calls, and Skype. Since the distance makes traditional dates a challenge, we have Skype dates. For example, to celebrate 1000 texts, we each got Jimmy Johns sandwiches and ate them while Skyping. He helped me have the best birthday ever by sending me flowers and a gift card to my favorite art supply store.

He found out that I like peonies and hydrangea.

We have a lot of things in common, like music, style preferences, and a healthy dislike for mushrooms. And the icing on the cake is his kindness, generosity, sensitivity and patience.

So naturally, I couldn't wait for his visit. Which I would love to tell you all about, but I need to get ready for my Skype date with Max. Wouldn't you be eager too to talk to this dashing fellow?

Besides Homework...

2011-06-03T23:37:00.003-07:00

Work and school aren't the only things that keep me busy. Sometimes I spend a lot of time on the phone. Talking. And Skyping. I'm not just reconnecting with old friends. Sometimes, like this blog, they get ignored. (A little too often for both, really.)

This story is this: after that truly depressing date story I told you earlier, I decided to widen my dating search using *audible gasp* the internet. This is a story in and of itself, but at 11:42 pm, now is not the time. Long story short, I actually found someone interesting. The feeling was mutual, and we met at my cousin's wedding reception held in Seattle in April. (Another story...)

I'm telling you this now because he -whose name is Max - is in Spokane to visit little old me. I couldn't be happier.

maybe this picture is better:

I caught him off guard which is hard to do with a big camera.

Anyway, that's the condensed-because-I-need-my-beauty-sleep version.

More to come. I promise.

Apologies Are In Order

2011-05-27T19:14:00.006-07:00

Dear Readers,

I just received an email from one of you (are perhaps all of you collectively) stating your disappointment in my negligence of this blog. I could be put off and cross and spout off all the reasons why I don't write as often, but instead I am going to apologize. I guess I didn't know you cared.

Since you apparently care, it is time to fill you in on the goings on that I tend to think are a little mundane for a blog once filled with travel adventures.

Monday through Friday I get up and go to school, which I think you know, but I haven't even gushed about how much I love it. I love love love it. It's challenging (more so than my B.A. in French), I have so much homework, and I am good (more so than that B.A. in French). Who knew that I could draw and build things like this:

Actually, that wasn't that much fun to build, and I am kind of glad model-building is over. But I DID IT, and sometimes that's what counts.

I really enjoy my classes, and I wake up looking forward to textiles, drafting, and coloring. Like I said before, the program is challenging. After all I am learning to do things (drawing & coloring) that I never thought I could do. Daily, I have an A-Ha moment of amazement when I look over a finished project and think to myself "did I draw that?" I have also discovered that I have a knack for choosing to draw challenging details found in traditional styled-homes like paneling, moldings, and other stuff. Maybe my subconscious realizes that if I tackle more difficult subjects I may actually be successful. Hopefully. Because truly I prefer cleaner, mid-century modern designs.

When I'm not at school, I'm at work. And to be honest, this is where the gushing stops. I really dislike retail. And I could honestly care less about oils and vinegars. It is not challenging to be grateful for school, but it is a challenge to feel grateful for this. I know that I am lucky to have this, or any job for that matter. But my mind and spirit craves something a little different, and my pocketbook wishes for something that pays for school a little better. A lot better. (Is there a scholarship out there specifically for me?) I have been looking for something else, but it is not easy to find work that pays well and allows me to go to school. (Insert a sigh of resignation.)

School and work do tend to dominate my life and time, and there is barely any time left in a day to add anything else. But there is something else, and that will soon get it's very own blog post.

Thank you, dear readers, for schooling me on my blogging duties. I will set aside some time to try to stay current, and keep you informed about my life. Thank you for caring.

Best regards,

Clifford

This Is a Breakthrough

2011-03-29T21:44:00.003-07:00

Did I ever mention the odd dates I went on this fall? Probably not, because I haven't been blogging much, but I feel this is a bit noteworthy.

Last fall I got a phone call from a fellow I talked to at a single adult conference (and who I actually met when we both lived in Bellevue) to tell me that a lady in my ward wanted to set us up, and since he didn't know who I was he thought it might be a good idea. However, he warned, that he was dating someone so the "date" wouldn't lead to anything. Since I actually knew who he was, I let him know we didn't need to go out.

A few weeks later, he must have gotten out of whatever relationship that was, because he called again looking for baking tips. He was asking a lot about bread baking which I don't know much about bread, I suggested he talk to my mom. He came over and talked to my mom. She was actually surprised that that was all he wanted. Somehow I wasn't.

A few days later he called again, and this time asked me out. After finding what kind of restaurants I liked (I said Indian because it is tasty), he promised to find the best Indian restaurant in Spokane for our date. With the prospects of a good Indian dinner I was kind of looking forward to the date, but not really looking forward to the person I would be spending time with. But I thought I'd give it the old college try. That lasted 5 minutes. After picking me up, he announced that we were not going to have Indian food, we would instead go to the grocery store and create as good a meal as possible under $10. And the cheaper the better. Awesome. That's so much better than Indian food. In some weird alternate universe that I do not want to be a part of.

We ate a glamourous spaghetti dinner and watched a movie. Then he took me home, and I hoped he wouldn't call again.

Oh, but he did. He wanted to have a religious discussion and then watch a movie. He warned me that there would be no food. I agreed because I still felt that I should make an attempt, after all I hadn't made many friends and I thought perhaps a second chance might be fine. Yeah. Our religious discussion ended pretty quickly. He complained about the Book of Job, and when I shared my thoughts he got up and walked away. No response, no rebuttal, he just focused his efforts on finding a movie.

I enjoyed the movie, while he slept...all the way until the end of the movie when he apologized for falling asleep, and then slept some more. He drove me to his house, so I sat there wondering if I remembered the directions to his house enough to have my dad come get me. At 11:30 I woke him up and he took me home. Ye Olde College Try was officially over.

A couple of weeks ago I was a little sad that another Saturday night had arrived and I had no plans and friends to call. So when this fellow called at 11:30 at night to ask me out I said yes. But after much thought I called him back to cancel. He really only wanted to learn how to make creme brulee (our activity for the evening after going to the grocery store to buy another under-ten-dollar dinner). And I didn't want to go out with him; I was just sad and lonely. And that is not enough reason to go out on a date.

Believe it or not, this is kind of huge for me. Normally I would have gone and complained about it later, while bemoaning my terrible life.

It was also huge that I didn't convince myself to like him and put up with all of that.

Crappy dates. Yes. But it was a valuable growing moment for me.

A Lapse

2011-03-29T21:35:00.002-07:00

Just so you know...all these weeks that I have not been blogging I have been doing homework.

I've been on Spring Break for a week now, and maybe I'll get a few posts in before it all starts up again.

I haven't checked my grades, but I may just have a couple "A's." Hopefully.

What's In Your Backpack?

2011-02-07T20:15:00.004-08:00

One slow evening at work while I was washing some dishes, a fellow came into the store and requested some assistance from my coworker to put together a gift basket for his wife. Eager for something to due Olivia (my coworker, whose name is Olivia, and yes she works at an olive oil store. Ironic? Oh yes.) happily said she could help him pick out some products. As they started going through our best sellers, the customer said that if the present turned out well, he would show her what was in his backpack.

This is where I started listening. This was just a couple of days after a bomb in a backpack interrupted a Martin Luther King, Jr. Day parade. Fortunately the bomb never went off, but it certainly made headlines in Spokane. Anywhoo, bombs, severed body parts, and/or other scariness I peeked around the corner to make sure Olivia was alright and to make sure I could pick the customer out of a lineup if need be.

I quickly finished up my dishes and headed out to the sales floor. The customer seemed jovial enough, and my coworker and I ended up forgetting about that backpack. We helped him pick out jams, oils, and other foodstuffs, and he was ready to buy anything we suggested. I arranged the gift basket (it's one of my many/few talents), and Olivia rung him up. Then he reminded us about the backpack.

He mentioned that he had to be careful, because what was inside was alive. Puppies? Kitties? My eyes were lit up by the possibility of fuzzy little puppies. Then he asked if we were ok with snakes. Many people, like Olivia, are not ok with snakes. She headed for the back. I am ok with non-poisonous reptiles and stuck around to watch him pull out his live animal.

Which was not a reptile. "It's a baby kangaroo!" I squealed like a five-year-old girl, while the customer unwrapped a kangaroo wearing a diaper. Turns out this fellow is not only not a bomber, he runs a farm that raises exotic animals, like kangaroos. This particular fellow was a four-month old wallaroo who is still young enough to be in his mama's pouch or a surrogate's backpack.

Of course Olivia and I were more than excited about this little guy, so naturally when he said we could hold it we were over the moon. We ran for our cameras, and then took turns holding and snapping photos.

It's amazing that guy fit in a backpack!

The following Saturday our new favorite customer was back with his wife who also had a joey in her backpack, but he was much smaller. He was thrown from pouch very prematurely, so they kept him warm in the backpack...except when she took him out so we could hold him.

Now I wouldn't recommend throwing caution to wind if someone wants to show you his or her backpack, but at least make sure weather or not there is a kangaroo in there. Or warm, fuzzy, living puppies.

2010-12-24T23:05:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas one and all!

Atta Boy, Clarence!

2010-12-24T23:04:00.002-08:00

George Bailey, I will love you 'till the day I die.

Gallery Opening

2010-12-19T20:53:00.008-08:00

So I took a drawing class last quarter, and I was very nervous about it, because I've never considered myself an "artist." But not all artists come out of the womb with drawing utensils in their hands, and they had to take classes to get better.

I am going to show you some of my favorites from the quarter. Now, I am not comparing myself to anyone with real, viable talent, but I am pretty impressed that I drew anything that looked like anything remotely recognizable. Here they are:

Oops. The last one is sideways.

Where's the Rug for My Nap?

2010-12-19T20:31:00.006-08:00

In case you were wondering I did get into all three classes at the community college. And I have loved every minute of it. My classes are engaging, I am gaining all sorts of new talents, and the instructors are very approachable. (Much more so than my experience at a particularly well-known university where I received my first degree.) The other nice thing about the community college is that I am not the oldest student there. I saw a few older students when I went in to get my parking pass, and I wanted to fist-pump all of them in some sort of recognition of solidarity. Anyway, in my classes, I am not the only one with a previous degree, nor am I the only one starting over.

It really has felt like I am completely starting over....like, kindergarten starting over. This quarter I did a lot of:

cutting and pasting. I am pretty good at it too. Two of my cutting and pasting projects are still at school and will be displayed in the hallway. I should have taken pictures before turning them in. Somehow I am not sure if I will ever get them back...

I've also drawn kitties and houses. Not to mention all sorts of other things.

Last, I re-learned how to write the alphabet and numbers. And unlike my penmanship grades in kindergarten and 1st grade, I actually did pretty well with the new style (which requires a drafting table, straight edge, and 45-degree triangle to accomplish).

I am also a straight-A student. I'm pretty sure that never happened at BYU, either.

Esther, The Plans Have Been Changed

2010-09-14T16:26:00.004-07:00

One of my favorite movies growing up was Vincent Minelli's "Meet Me In St. Louis." Really, what's not to love: fun-and short-musical numbers, fabulous "ginger-peachy" catchphrases, creepy Victorian Halloween practices, and the joy of knowing that I won't have to wear a corset to make a move on members of the opposite sex. (Hmmm...maybe that would help...)

Recently a certain part of the Christmas ball scene has been replaying in my mind. Esther and her sister Rose plotted to get back at Lucille Ballard for going to the ball with Warren Sheffield (Rose's beau) instead of their brother Lon. Rose and Esther filled Lucille's dance card with the city's less-than-optimal dance partners. Once Miss Ballard arrived at the ball, she insisted that Warren pair off with Rose, and she would then get to spend time with Lon. Rose was more than pleased with the arrangement, and unbeknownst to Esther, agreed to the new arrangement. Soon Esther joined the party with the filled dance card from you-know-where, when Rose hastily, and and rather snootily I might add, stated that "The plans have been changed," and then waltzed off with Warren. (Or maybe it was Virginia Reel.) Esther kept the wicked dance card for herself, and had a tortured Christmas ball until her grandfather (and later heart-throb John Truitt) saved her.

You are now probably wondering why this particular scene has been playing in my mind. As you all know, I've been unemployed and trying to get a job so I can save up money to go back to school next fall. Needless to say, I've been a little impatient and worried that I've maybe made yet another poor decision. I may live at home, but it is still no fun to be without pocket money--especially with the autumn approaching and I seem to have misplaced my long-sleeved shirts and closed-toe shoes.

One day I was pondering my situation and thought about starting to school early--at a local community college, and paying for it along the way with a part-time job. Like, at the mall or something. The idea didn't sit well. It didn't match my plans to spend my first paycheck at Boden, Anthropologie, and the Nordstrom shoe department. All of a sudden I heard Rose Smith's uppity voice telling me the "the plans have been changed." I knew that I would not be dancing with the 20 most eligible St. Louis bachelors circa 1903. I am dancing with the rejects. I know, I know....there is nothing wrong with training at a community college, or working at the mall. It just wasn't what I planned.

But maybe things are working out. A couple in my ward hired me to work at their store in the mall selling fancy olive oils, vinegars, etc. And with any luck I'll be starting school tomorrow. Since I'm a late registrant I have to beg the teachers to add me. If it is "meant to be" then it will work out, and my dance with the circa 1903 St. Louis rejects will pass quickly, and my figurative John Truitt will show up the make the rest of the ball fabulous.

Keep in mind, however, that I reserve the right to have more changed plans.

Don't Sign Me Up

2010-08-14T12:04:00.007-07:00

Clubs are supposed to be things that people want to join. It just so happens that I am privileged to have the right pedigree to join either the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) or the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers (DUP). This is not to say that I am planning on joining any such club at the moment--I am pretty sure I lack the funds--but I could if I really really wanted to do so. Also, I am not 100 percent certain what I would do with any such organization. All I know about the DAR I learned from Gilmore Girls: meetings, luncheons, and fundraisers. All I know about the DUP is that my paternal grandmother joined, but I don't recall her mentioning any tea parties. However, being a member of either, or both, society does have one important benefit: being well-connected. If there is one thing I have gained from my time with Jane Austen (in either book or film form) is that it is important to come from a well-connected family...should one want to rub shoulders with good society and get hitched to a well-to-do single fellow who is naturally looking for a spouse.

Just as the DAR and DUP could help in social situations...or whatever...there is one club that could take all the benefits of connectedness away in one mighty swoop: The Crazy Cat-Lady Club (CCLC). Let's face it, while it is perfectly O.K. to like and own a few cats, loving and owning a horde of them is socially and hygienically a really bad idea. Unfortunately for me, just as easy as I could join the more high-class organizations, it appears that I am capable of being a member of the CCLC.

I'll be honest, I do like cats. I like to pet them, hold them, and I'm kind of fond of the way they purr. But that's where I'd like to keep it. Unfortunately, a couple of the cats at home are a little too hell-bent on making me look like a member of the CCLC.

Here are the Kitty Troublemakers: (on the left) Charlie, an 11-year-old male with a loud, chirpy meow, and a thick coat that he completely sheds whenever I wear black; (on the right) Mr. Bingley, a 1-year-old male, with a silent-to-squeeky meow, wild curiosity, and the ability to adapt to his lack of opposable thumbs.

Maybe I'm overreacting a little; all I know is that up until three-and-a-half months ago cats wouldn't give me the time of day. Now I have to put with 3:00am cuddling; constant requests for attention; "help" when I am typing on the computer or making my bed; an audience while washing my face; following me around; demands that they sit on my lap (this even happens with other people's cats these days...); exercise "assistance"; and having to hold them.

This behavior is relatively tolerable, but I have had to put an end to them following me into the bathroom whilst I shower. Mr. Bingley followed me in the other day. I thought I could get rid of him once I turned on the water. It didn't work, so I proceeded to disrobe while trying to avoid his staring eyes. Since the water takes its time getting warm, I thought a nature break was in order. So as I sat on the toilet, completely in the buff, Mr. Bingley thought it was an opportune time to sit on my lap. That was uncomfortable. It is one thing to hold a cat fully clothed, but it is another thing entirely to hold one while naked. Awk.Ward. It is a moment that totally propels one straight into the dreaded CCLC. I love our cats, but I don't want to love our cats. Needless to say, I didn't let him stay.

I am very certain that CCLC acts like that could keep me out of the DAR and DUP, and well, the rest of respectable society.

Why Dating Should Be a Lot More Like Shoe Shopping

2010-08-12T16:51:00.007-07:00

Since I have been home my main focus--however unfocused the process has become--is to get a job, save money, and figure out a good-enough career path for me to follow. Unfortunately certain people in my family seem to think I should also be concerned about dating. And a certain member of my family thinks it would be a good idea to set up an online account for me. (I have warned this person that I will never ever ever speak to him/her again if it happens. Consider this your second warning.)

I'll admit that some people have been very successful at finding a match via the internet. My cousin met a completely functioning individual that we have been more than happy to have as part of the extended family. Maybe I could be just as fortunate. My biggest issue is with the whole process of searching on the internet. It's not like, say for example, shoe shopping online.

To begin with, if I want to shop for shoes online, I can log onto Zappos or Piperlime without having to announce myself first. I don't need to create a "Shoe Shopper Profile" stating that I am a "tall brunette with an 8 1/2 shoe size looking for a classic yet modern black pump to wear to work, church, and fun social gatherings." Shoe stores do not care if I am a Taurus or if I like candle-lit dinners and long walks on the beach, and they don't need a picture of me. The best part is that I don't have to cross my fingers and hope that the pair of shoes I like will also choose me. Zappos and Piperlime just want me to look, find the right shoe (and the left, for that matter), purchase, and live happily ever after in my sleek, black Calvin Klein pumps with the wicked high heels.

Plus, I have never had to pay a fee for the privilege to shop for shoes. Sure, we have to fork out the cash when we find something, but I do believe it is one of our inalienable rights to shoe shop for free. I am pretty sure it is categorized under the "pursuit of happiness" part of the deal. After all, who wants to pay a fee, and then not find anything, or worse--be rejected? I generally do not pay to be rejected. That is just mean. Cruelly and unusually. I can get rejected for free.

Truthfully, when I look for shoes I would rather go to a brick-and-mortar shoe store to do the shopping. I have to try on before I buy. So my whole approach to dating is similar: look for the fellows in the places where fellows I would want to date should be, and if I am lucky, talk to them. Normally I got to places like church, social gatherings with friends, or through worthy recommendations from other friends. Please note, I am dismally unsuccessful, as you probably have guessed. For example, nearly two weeks ago my sister and I dragged ourselves to a Single Adult Conference filled with the region's selection of "shoes". I met some nice girls, too bad I shop for men. I did talk to some options that were nice and probably normal...loafers. I am in the market for sleek, black, classy-yet-modern pumps of the Calvin Klein variety (kind of like the ones I saw at Macy's this May but didn't have enough money to purchase) but will be perfectly happy with Nine West, Jessica Simpson, Miz Mooz, Cole Haan, Franco Sarto, etc. you get the idea. There were some there that looked like they could fit the bill, but they either act like custom-made, one-of-a-kind Salvatore Ferragamos, and not interested in communicating with someone who just wants a pair of Calvin Kleins, or they were already taken. Should I just settle for loafers when that shoe isn't what I want/need?

Shoe shopping can have challenges just like people shopping, but when I find the pair I want, that fits perfectly, and is in my budget, I can proceed to checkout. In the dating/relationship world it would be nice to go a certain place, pick out what I want, present myself, and then...proceed to checkout. But people just don't work that way. With my luck, after going to a certain place, picking out someone and presenting myself, I will most likely get laughed at.

So, I either need to make my peace with a life of loafers, or I will just have to splurge and buy those nice Calvin Klein pumps I saw this May. Or the yellow flats I saw at Target. Either way, I just want to go shoe shopping.

Am I Home Yet?

2010-08-11T15:08:00.036-07:00

I have been home from Dubai for three months, and I have retitled my blog to show that I am home, but I am still talking about the Middle East. This is because I am not so quick about blogging things, and I figure talking about strange locations is more interesting to people who read this blog. However, it is time to move on (in so many ways) so this is most likely my last post about my time in the Middle East. Maybe I'll infuse a few stories in now and again, but this is the Last Official Middle East Post on this blog.

I had a fabulous Last-Month-in-Dubai. It's amazing how wonderful a place can be when one isn't working 12+ hours a day and 6 1/2 days a week. The first thing I did was move out of my apartment (that I shared with a Pakistani family. Have I ever mentioned that?) and into my friend Toria's house with her family. (ThankyouThankyouThankyou Toria, John and Kids.) It was the first best decision for my last month. I also rented a car that allowed me to go all over the place. I've already written about the fun I had with Trish and our trip to Jordan. The rest of time I spent hanging out with the friends I made, doing some last minute shopping, and thoroughly enjoying Dubai. Well, except for the many times that I got lost whilst driving around.

Do I miss it? It is hard to say. I certainly do miss a lot of aspects of the place...and that definitely includes the items in my What I'll Miss posts. What I would give for some Handi Chicken Achari, cheap waxing, and obscure Brit Rock on the radio.

So, here's a list of things about Dubai I love remembering:

1. The beauty of the desert, and the softness of the sand.

2. Mingling with other cultures: the Philippinos at work, Pakistanis at home, and Arabs--to name a few.

3. Wicked crazy luxury goods.

4. Henna--although I only had it done once. Where are the henna parlors in Spokane?

5. Camels, but not so much camel milk.

6. Large photos of leaders along the side of the road. The following is Crown Prince Sheik Hamdan.

7. Access to exotic fruits.

8. Getting my feet wet in faraway bodies of water.

9. Last, and certainly not least: my friends at church. I have met some nice friends at church here--and everywhere for that matter, but nothing can really compare to the bond in Dubai. I guess since we were all so far away from family, we became a much stronger and united group. They were all so good and kind to me, and I miss, miss, miss them. They make me grateful for friendship and all of my friends.

10. Now here's some random photos:

So now I am back in the U.S. and living in Spokane. Let the adventure begin.

All Fun and Games

2010-08-04T14:16:00.020-07:00

Since Trish and I were able to visit Petra, we only had one more thing on our Jordan To-Do List: The Dead Sea. (Well, if we had more time, trust me, we would have had plenty to do. So keep that in mind when planning your Jordanian vacation.)

A friend at church claims that the Dead Sea is his favorite body of water, and it is the best place to be shipwrecked. First of all, it is so salty that no one drowns. And second, since the sea has no fish, there wouldn't be anything odd either nibbling or brushing up against one's legs. I think that makes it tops in my books, too.

My friend and I were the only ones who boarded a mini-tour bus to the sea. The bus drivers in Jordan must have some kind of deal going on with the tchochke shops along the way to each major destination. On the way to Petra, it was kind of nice because the shops have bathrooms (but without toilet paper, by the way). But the Dead Sea was maybe an hour away, so it wasn't necessary. We looked around to be nice, but even though it was obvious that we weren't pulling out the pocketbooks, we waited a long time for our driver to get done with whatever it was he was doing. However, soon as we announced that we were going back to the bus he mysteriously got done.

Here's some fun facts about the Dead Sea. It is below sea level. The Jordan River flows into it, but there aren't any tributaries leaving it. Thus it is a huge collection of minerals, sediment (and salt), and cannot support life. That's why it's called the Dead Sea.

My Jordanian friend recommended that Trish and I hang out at the Movenpick Hotel and Resort for the day. We had to pay a small fee but it came with towels lunch, and mud. The mud is very important; it's full of minerals and exfoliants and it helps makes skin smooth and pretty.

So, I bet the one question you have in your mind is: Do you really float? The answer is a resounding Heck Yeah! It is impossible to drown. While floating I tried to make myself "sink" up to my chin, but my shoulders obstinately stayed above the water line. The Dead Sea isn't so great for swimming, because when spreading the body out to swim, everything floats to the top. The best thing to do: just recline and relax.

One thing to keep in mind: don't get the water in your mouth, nose, and especially not the eyes. Poor Trish got water splashed in her eyes each of the times we went out to float. I got it in my eyes and nose just once. It burned like the dickens. The hotel has lifeguards, and I am pretty sure their only duty is to flush burning eyes with salt-free water.

We did get to relax on the beach as well. Most of the time I have whirlwind let's-see-everything-vacations, and it was kinda nice to sit on the beach and do nothing. Nothing, but try to avoid looking at the old heavy-set Russian man with his thong bikini and a t-shirt cut-off at the top of his belly. Yikes. No pictures of him, most fortunately.

Alas, we could not stay there all day; we did have to get back on that mini-bus (ice cream cones in hand) and head back to Amman. This time we were joined by a French couple, and we all stayed on the bus during the obligatory souvenir shop layover.

Once back in Amman, we got in a cab and headed directly to the Citadel. This site, gloriously situated on top of a hill, is a museum and archeological site containing artifacts and buildings from pretty much every civilization that moved through that part of the world. We arrived when the museum was closing, but were able to stick around to take photos. The light was perfect, and I am more than pleased about the results.

Ancient Capital of Edom

2010-07-22T19:16:00.048-07:00

My friends who had visited Jordan before I did gave me lots of suggestions for tourist activities. Of all of the ideas, two of those were listed under the "I Don't Care if I Don't Do Anything Else" to-do list: Petra and the Dead Sea. They lived up to their expectations. This blog post will, naturally, be dedicated to Petra...or according the Old Testament, the ancient capital of Edom (2 Kings 14:7, Isaiah 16:1, Judges 1:36...).

You may also know about the place thanks to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade--in my opinion the best of the Indiana Jones films. (Of course this may be due to the fact that when I saw it for the first time I had a teensy little teenaged crush on River Phoenix. Or that there are scenes in Venice.)

I posted a trailer that isn't working for some reason, but that's okay because it didn't exactly show you what I am talking about. And then you might not want to read the rest of my travelogue. That has pictures. I took about a kajillion billion pictures, but it is my goal to show you the best of mine.

Petra is an all-day event, and if you have the time there is enough to see for two days. We left Amman early in morning, and took a two-hour bus to the city. It is certainly a tourist attraction, but the place is so huge that the throngs do not derail the experience. After purchasing tickets, and a cool Arabic-type headscarf (which, sadly, was Made in China), we were on our way.

For the first leg of the journey visitors can choose to walk, take a carriage, or ride a horse--included in the price of the ticket (!). Trish and I, wanting the full experience, chose to go horseback. Along the way we passed the Djin Blocks, the Obelisk Tomb, and the ancient man-made cave dwellings that are littered throughout the site. Since my horse guide thought the best way to collect a lot of tips was to make the horse run, and thus taking on more tourists. So along the way, I took pictures of somethings but they were blurry. It's a good thing that we got to pass by that way (on foot) to leave.

The horses dropped us off at the entrance of the Bab al-Siq area--narrow, tall, and utterly gorgeous cliffs. Along the way we saw the artistry of the natural rock layers, ancient carvings, and fig trees growing out of the fissures in the rocks.

It was hard to avoid looking up, and by the time we reached the most famous monument in Petra my neck was pretty sore. It was entirely worth it. Trish and I were walking near a tour group, and as we approached the end of the canyon trail the guide played an all-too-familiar movie theme song. (I'm pretty sure you know which one I mean.)

The Treasury--the immense building you see in the above pictures--is truly breathtaking and awe-inspiring. Trish and I had to rest and take it all in while enjoying a celebratory Silver Bullet Diet Coke. We had to get our energy up for the rest of the trip.

Can you believe I still have more to share?

When faced with the option "Why Not?" sometimes the question is also the best response--especially when faced with the offer to take a donkey ride to the top of the cliffs to the Monastery. At first, I thought "tourist trap," but it was So.Much.Fun, and the only way we could get up to the Monastery and back without missing our bus.

I actually rode a mule probably because my bedouin guide thought I was too tall for a donkey.

On our way we passed more Nabatean marvels: the Royal Tombs, an arena, and a temple, all being excavated by a fine team from Brown University. We took a lot of pictures, and Trish took thousands--well, so much so that her bedouin started to call her "The Japanese."

For reasons of safety (trust me) I didn't take too many pictures on the way to the top. It was all I could do to hang on to my poor, poor mule. Really, donkeys and mules have the saddest faces. I kind of wanted to take one home with me so I could spend my life trying to make it happy. But then, what would I do with a donkey--even a happy one?

After a very long time hanging on for dear life, and not looking over the side of the cliff, we arrived at the Monastary. Less ornate, but the edifice is just as amazing as the Treasury.

Petra is not just an archeological masterpiece. People, bedouins actually, live there. Many families live in the caves that were carved out centuries ago. In fact, several years ago a New Zealand lady was wooed by a bedouin, and ended up marrying him. They live in Petra to this day. And she wrote a book that I need to read. This has, of course, inspired many bedouin lads to aspire to meeting a lovely (blond) Westerner and luring her into his tent/cave. Trish and I were even invited to "make party" with our two guides.

How could we resist those two eye-lined lads? Easy. It's called running water.

Believe it or not, descending the mountainside was just a hair scarier than ascending. I am surprised that I can't remember the name of my mule, because I would nervously say it coupled with a "shway, shway" (easy, easy) as she gingerly climbed down the worn, carved staircase.

My mantra was: "Hold tight, trust the mule, and don't look down." Isn't that a good mantra for life in general?

Miraculously Trish and I survived, and we happily celebrated once again with another Silver Bullet Diet Coke, and 7-Up's H2Oh. And without our two bedouin guides.

I had to remove my friend's pictures--for some reason they weren't showing up. It's really a crying shame.

The Travelogue Continues

2010-07-18T21:14:00.020-07:00

Now that I have finished summer obsession #1 (the Anne of Green Gables series), I am now onto summer obsession #2 (the Tour de France), and unlike the charming tales of a certain red-head I should be able to blog while watching some bike racing. I won't mention that there is only one week left for the Tour...

But you didn't come here to hear about epic races in France. I promised pictures, and by golly I will deliver:

My friend Trish and I took a little detour from our Dubai explorations and hopped on a plane to visit what is now one of my Favorite Places on Earth--The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Since it was early April we missed the rainy season, but instead it was sunny, green, and the hills were covered with wild flowers and little clusters of sheep. It was heaven.

We stayed with Fadi, the fellow who was dead-set on bringing me to the Middle East in the first place. He was a great host. Not only did we stay with him, he also picked us up from the airport, arranged for taxis to take us around, and he ordered one the best meals I have ever eaten in my entire life.

Our first stop in Jordan was for lunch in the hilltop town of Madaba. Fadi had to return to the bakery, so he quickly ordered some mezze dishes and then left us to enjoy it while sitting on the terrace of this ancient building.

We ate hummous, baba ghanoush, fatoush salad, fried cheese pastries, fried spinach pastries, shish taouk, fresh pita, and mint-lemonade. I wish I knew the name of the place so I can direct you when you go to Jordan, but all I can tell you is that it is not too far from the Greek Orthodox church.

This Church is a common tourist destination because it contains a gorgeous, historic map of the ancient world--showing locations such as Jericho, Bethlehem, Lot's Cave, to name a few.

After gazing at the map, and pointing out the important locales we took a cab to Jebel Nepo, or Mount Nebo.

If you are an Old Testament scholar, you may recognize this place. Mount Nebo is not just another lovely hillside in Jordan, it is also the place where Moses looked out across the Promised Land just prior to the Israelites taking possession of it. It was a very clear day, and like Moses, my friend and I were able to look out and see Israel (or Occupied Palestine--depending on your political views). In fact, we could even make out the town of Jericho.

It really was fabulous to think that I stood where such a great prophet stood.

A taxi came to pick us up and take us back down to Amman. That night Trish and I explored some of the more sociable areas of Amman, and had dinner at a very popular cafe. Some guys tried to hit on us, but the weren't really our type. Plus we needed to rest for our upcoming explorations.

But before I leave you to wonder about the other wonders I plan to show you, I will leave you with these two images:

Those are sheep on the top of the middle hillside.

Probably the cutest can of Diet Coke on the planet. They are about the size of a Red Bull can, but instead filled with DC. Trish called it the "Silver Bullet Can." Many such cans were consumed during our sojourn. Please tell me where we can get some in the U.S. Please.

Main Attractions

2010-06-16T16:28:00.033-07:00

Whilst living in Dubai, I unfortunately did not have too many opportunities to actually leave the city, or do anything super-touristy for that matter. Once I went to Sharjah, a nearby Emirate, but I slept during the scenic drive. I am sure there were palm trees and a lot of white buildings.

When Trish was in town I finally was able to visit Abu Dhabi. Interestingly enough, when I originally moved to Dubai the plan was for me eventually open a branch in Abu Dhabi. But that never materialized. Well, we opened a shop there but everything was baked in Dubai, and thus I stayed there.

Anyhoo, Easter Sunday (which is a typical work day in the Middle East) Trish and I hopped into my little rental car and with a few instructions we were off to visit Abu Dhabi. I was a bit nervous about the drive and figured I would know I made a wrong turn once I hit the Saudi border. Miraculously the drive was quite easy. The only problem I had was the lack of cruise control on my car--and that beeping noise the car made every time I went over the speed limit. Which was, incidentally, 120 km per hour. The cars around us were going 120 miles per hour.

Abu Dhabi isn't at all like Dubai. Dubai has all of that crazy architecture, and Abu Dhabi is more suburban. They do have their wild construction plans, but the Emirate is very conservative in their spending habits--if they don't have the dirhams, they don't build. This is why they can bail out Dubai who is a bit more like the prodigal son when it comes to spending that oil inheritance.

The main attraction in Abu Dhabi is the Sheik Rashid Mosque--which, unlike most mosques, is actually open to the public a few hours of the day. It is gorgeous.

In order to go in, all women had to put on the abaya and shayla--the black robes and head scarves. I was kind of excited to see what I looked like in that traditional dress that I had seen for over a year. Of course the ones they hand out at the mosque are rather generic and lack all the fancy trimming, but it was very cool nonetheless. Well, not necessarily temperature cool...

In a way, the mosque reminded me of our Mormon temples: special clothes, white, chandeliers, and breathtaking details. However, there is a lack of furniture in mosques, but that is replaced with fabulous rugs.

It was hard deciding which pictures to post. I can't wait to see my friend's pictures--since she's a professional photographer...

After the mosque we parked at the beach and decided to walk to our next destination. Five minutes later we were back in our car because it was just too friggin' hot. In no time at all we arrived at the Emirates Palace: a grand hotel, concert venue, and current residence of His Highness Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed al Nahyan: Ruler of Abu Dhabi and President of the United Arab Emirates. We saw his car. In fact, I may or may not have parked in the guest parking lot. It looked like some guard was trying to flag me down, but since no one came running after me with machine guns, I figured we were fine. What tipped me off to my probable error was the lack of other guest cars, and the presence of more official looking vehicles with the special military license plates. But like I said, no one came chasing after me with any sort of artillery.

I really wanted to run through the fountain at the Emirates Palace, but I was already on thin ice with my parking choices, so I wisely opted against it. Trish and I did have our bathing suits, so we decided to cool off at Aquaventure--the a-mazing water park at the Atlantis Hotel. I was a trifle nervous at first. Water parks have two items that I am a bit scared of: water and heights. So before I entered each ride I repeated the following mantra: "No One Has Died at this Waterpark."

Since I didn't drown, I had a pretty good time. I refused to go on the one that went straight down, instead I re-enjoyed the ride that ends up in a shark tank. Note the above picture so that you will know that there is a plexiglass wall separating the sharks from park patrons. It was pretty cool. And the water did it's job in cooling us off on such a hot day.

Blowing the Dust Off

2010-06-15T16:44:00.004-07:00

Hi! Remember me? I used to blog here, and post pictures about some of the places I've been. I know what you are thinking. I came home from those places over a month ago, and I have no blog post to show for it. To ease your worry--because I know you are more worried than annoyed-- I did not die in a plane crash; I am not still stuck in Dubai; I didn't run away; and I didn't get kidnapped by terrorists.

I did get kidnapped by two strong forces however: laziness and ambivalence. And I am just trying little by little to break free from their grasps and finish writing about the Middle East and posting the pictures (you are going to love the pictures). With a little more strength I may break free enough to look for a job. (It's a horrible task that makes a Stockholm Syndrome victim.)

Well, I have started the job search process, but let's just say the "old college try" is feeling very "backwater technical school half-hearted attempt." It would help if I knew what I wanted.

My captivity has been mildly productive. I decorated my room; started to re-readed the Anne of Green Gables series; cleaned out all of my boxes; got caught up on Criminal Minds; and blew my mom and sister's high scores on Mah Jong completely out of the water. Sadly none of these things actually brings one closer to employment.

But it does make for a happy kidnap-ee. Now it is time to start Anne of the Island.

The Beginning of the End

2010-04-19T05:36:00.023-07:00

Since I have been so, umm, fortunate to stay in Dubai for an extra week, I thought I should tell you all about the nice time that I've had during my last days in Dubai. The best part of these last days has been that I haven't had to work. Amazing what a difference that makes! During these weeks of funemployment I've beginning to think that Dubai wouldn't be such a horrible place to live, if I had a better job. Or better yet a husband with a good paying job...

Just a few short days after I set myself free from that one bakery job that I used to have, I welcomed a guest that helped me finally enjoy this part of the world. My very cool friend Trish arrived in the morning on April 3rd, and we set immediately set off for a week of fun. Since we had so much fun, I will have to make separate posts for each day. This post is Trish's first day in town, obviously.

I decided to rent a car, so I was solely responsible for driving us around the town, and I do not need to lie about being incredibly nervous about it. When I drive around an unfamiliar city, I like to have a navigator--preferably a navigator who knows which streets are which. Last August I got to drive around pretty successfully, but this place had a good 8 months to move large buildings and roads to make it feel like driving in a whole new city.

So when I made it to the Bur Dubai/Deira neighborhoods without having to backtrack, make a U-turn, or curse the transit authority, I was completely and utterly pleasantly surprised.

The above photos can give you an idea of what one can find in Deira. I've blogged about it a bit before. It was actually the first "touristy" thing I did when I finally got my first day off. Deira is one of the original parts of Dubai so it is not as polished and clean as the main places. Even though it isn't as pretty, it brings in tourists with the dhow rides across the creek; spice, gold, and textile markets; and historical museums with some original houses.

We first walked around the Bastikaya area looking at the home of one of the old sheiks, and it described the architecture and design of typical arabic homes. One feature that used nowadays, except just as decoration, are the wind towers. These boxy towers directed breezes throughout the homes as early air-conditioning.

Then we got on a dhow and headed across the creek for the souks. It was a hot day, and part of me wanted to swim across. Except that I don't swim.

We wandered the souks, bought some spices (frankincense, vanilla, and saffron), looked at the gold jewelry, and avoided the guys selling knock-off handbags. We ate our first Arabic meal of the week: hummous, kebbeh, and shish taouk.

After getting enough sun to get quite sunburnt, we went to the Souk Madinat--a newer souk designed to look old, and with shops meant for tourists with fat wallets.

But it is the place to buy camel chocolate. So we bought some.

We needed to have some beach time, and although the sun was setting we still decided to get some sand between the toes. I showed Trish the beach with the cool rubberized running track. Sadly the tide was too high for cool tide pools are starfish.

I am sure Trish was exhausted having just arrived from NYC that morning, but she was still game for a trip to the Dubai Mall, which frankly is my most favorite shopping center. We met up with some families from church and had dinner at the food court. Not necessarily the most fancy place to eat dinner. But trust me when I say that Dubai food court options have a tendency to be a bit better than your average mall. We ate at Fatburger. It's pretty tasty.

Then I dragged the sleepy Trish through the mall to look at fancy stuff.

And after wandering around the largest mall with the largest fountain, it was certainly time to call it a day.

In the Event of an Unexpected Volcanic Eruption

2010-04-17T10:45:00.003-07:00

At the end of March, employees of British Airways airlines decided to go on strike. I watched strike updates rather nervously because in all of my air travel issues I have yet to experience flight troubles due to a strike. I was due.

However, the strike was short and everything resumed as normal. I packed, set myself free from that bakery job, took a trip to Jordan (that I will be blogging about soon), and waited with anticipation to finally leave Dubai for good.

In two hours from right now I should be at the airport with flight documents in hand, packed suitcase in tow, and a charming new bag on my shoulder. I should be popping the Dramamine and making those final good-byes. Instead I am sitting at my friend's house with clothes strewn about the room I am using, typing this blog, trying to avoid a meltdown, trying not to think about how I am supposed to get home, and wondering if a good bowl of ice cream will solve this dilemma.

All because a couple of volcanoes in Iceland had to blow off some steam.

A few weeks ago I read about their initial rumblings, but nothing came to mind that maybe I should re-book my flights. I, who has a knack for travel scrapes, should have seen it coming. I've had delays due to engine problems, storms, 9/11, undisclosed annoyances, missing pilots, and now finally I can add volcanic eruptions to that list. It's like a dream come true.

But it's actually more like those frantic dreams that you have when feverish. You sleep without sleeping--frustrated because you can't seem to get some elusive thing done. That was today.

On Friday I heard murmurings of flight cancellations due to some volcanoes, and was a little worried--but not too worried--that I might also experience a delay. Twenty-four hours before my flight was to take off, I checked the British Airways Web site, and they stated that my flight was still taking off at the planned time. By the time I woke up six hours later, the plans had been changed, and my flight was indeed cancelled. My options were: re-book or get a refund.

Maybe I should stop and preface a little by letting you know about my proposed flight plans:

Sunday April 18th, 1:45 am: leave for London--visit with friends, get lost in city

Thursday April 22nd: take a train to Coventry to visit a friend and then check out Manchester

Sunday April 25: take train back to London

Monday April 26: fly to NYC--hang out with Angie who is traveling from Utah, visit old friends, buy new bras at the magic store

Friday April 30: fly to Spokane, Washington

My flights to London and NYC were part of a British Airways multi-city package. The trip to Spokane on Alaska Airlines is not. Re-booking with BA would be free, but that's not the case with the Alaska Airlines flight. And I don't want to spend too much extra money getting home.

When speaking with the friendly BA staff on the phone this morning, I was told I could get a flight out of Dubai on the 26th. Do you see a problem? I do. Of course the NYC flight could get re-booked as well, but it leaves me with a dilemma: which part of my trip do I cut out? The part in the UK London or the NYC part? Plus, if I am going to cut out London entirely, I would rather take a non-stop flight to NYC from Dubai, which would save me a couple of hours travel-time. So I decided to look around before making any decisions.

My friend Toria looked at a few sites and we found a flight leaving for London on TunisAir on the 20th. We also found cheap flight from London to NYC on the 26th on American Airlines (not my favorite airline, but the price was good). So I decided to get a refund from BA. After one near meltdown, a couple of dropped calls, and an accumulative time of one hour on hold with the aforementioned BA telephone staff, I got a full refund on my tickets (and an option to leave for London on the 27th. Which I declined.)

I then purchased my TunisAir tickets in cash to leave Dubai on the 20th. I felt good, even though during the whole transaction I lost about $200.

Fifteen minutes after buying my tickets, I got a call from TunisAir stating that they have cancelled all flights to Europe until further notice, and that I need to go back and get my refund. They did tell me that they would let me buy the ticket back if flights are resumed by that time.

So, yeah. This is where I am at right now: sitting on my bed, typing, with a splitting headache, and trying to get some idea how to fix this problem. A friend's husband is stuck in London, and he said it isn't worth trying to get another flight for a full week. (!!!!)

I seriously don't know what to do, and don't really want to think about it.

All I do know is that I need to work on my foresight skills.

Across the Airwaves

2010-03-28T04:03:00.002-07:00

A few weeks ago in one of my "What I'll Miss" installments (that I am behind on, I know...) I talked about the radio station I have enjoyed listening to over here: Dubai 92. Remember how I wrote that for a while I was pretty sure they were my only friends? Well now I have actually met a couple of the morning DJs. Here's how it went down:

The station is having a contest called "The Hook-Up." Listeners can call in and ask for help getting whatever it is they need. Really, anything. Even though I am pretty much pessimistic about winning radio contests, I even called in with a request--non-bakery type clothing. The second part of the contest is for people who can provide the chosen listener with a hook-up. The daily giver gets dinner for two at a nice restaurant and a chance to win a prize of 15,000 dirhams of free advertising. So as we listen to the radio each morning, I have been listening to see if the bakery would have an opportunity to assist.

Lo and behold after a few days, the DJs announce a request a British lady made for a space-themed birthday cake for her soon-to-be six year-old son. I immediately called the station and stated that we would be more than happy to help. Since we've had a few promotions with them lately, they were really glad that we volunteered. They also stated that they needed a bakery representative to present the cake plan to the little boy at the radio station. My boss said I could go, since it was my idea to help out.

Needless to say, I was pretty excited. I got in a cab the next morning and headed straight to Studio City (a part of Dubai where all the broadcast studios are). My appearance was a surprise to the mother and son. (Well, we were all in the studio, they didn't know who I was.) On air, the DJ's described the request, and then presented me, and this is where I got to talk into the microphone and present the cake idea to the family. The staff and I drew up a three-tiered cake with the top tier decorated as the sun, and the bottom-two decorated as our solar system with planets, stars, and spaceships. We also decided to throw in some alien cupcakes.

here is a photo from that day that I got off the station's Web site. I just colored my hair that dark, and I think it looks rather smashing.

It was so much fun! When I got back the staff all told me that I was now famous. The radio station played the clip a few times a day and I actually got to hear my voice. Or rather, what is apparently my voice because it did not sound like me. (Really, I sound like a Valley Girl with a lisp? I have a lisp?) But it was very cool to actually talk on the radio--and not just a call-in thing either. So that was my 15 minutes of fame.

I do want to post a picture of the cake, but right now my internet is out at home. I haven't figured out how to download my pictures to the work computer. (I swear, everyday it's a new method.) It turned out great, and the family really liked it.

And if we all believe in good Karma, maybe this good deed means that my Hook-Up request will be granted!

Kinda Don't Get What All The Fuss Is About

2010-03-23T21:26:00.003-07:00

Author's note: This post is heavy on Mormon culture and doctrine. Please let me know if you would like any sort of clarification.

Maybe I've spent too much time in New York/abroad/hanging out with foreigners/under-employed, but I don't really have a problem with the new Healthcare Bill/Law thingy. It's probably not a perfect plan, but it is a step in the right direction. For some reason, which I don't totally understand, it is a touchy subject. In my head I think what's so wrong about helping people get health insurance? Are people upset because the government is, heaven forbid, forcing people to have health insurance? (Aren't we mandated by law to carry auto insurance? No one seems to be bothered by this.)

I think the biggest issue that freedom-loving people have is that this health plan smacks of socialism. And with recent poor choices the government and large corporations have made during the financial crisis, I can see that maybe certain factions of the American public might be a bit concerned that this country is headed down the road that leads to sickles and hammers on our flag. I'm sorry, but I think that is a little extreme.

I've been trying to balance my opinions about socialism and the Mormon doctrine of a Zion community, i.e. the United Order. So I've been trying to do some research into what church leaders have taught about the Law of Consecration/United Order and the political/economic theory of socialism. Now, this isn't PhD level of research here, but these are my first thoughts.

On a very basic level, the two concepts have more or less the same goal (don't you love my vagueness) in providing a level financial equality for everyone. The difference is in the undertaking: socialism is equality by law, and Law of Consecration is by choice. Naturally, freedom-lovers everywhere would prefer to give by choice. And why not? Feelings of compassion and charity make us feel good and want to give more, as well as make us closer to God. However, feelings of selfishness tend to overcome desires to good to fellowmen, and thus socialistic ideals kick in to force people to give to others.

In my small research I came across talks from church leaders Marion G. Romney and Ezra Taft Benson that decry the dangers of socialism, and in the case of Romney's talk compared it with the United Order. Both talks were moving and informative, but it didn't make me want to write my congressman a scathing letter against healthcare reform. Both talks were written in the 1960's, and although I have little knowledge about the era, I do know that our country was reeling from the effects of the Red Scare and McCarthyism, and at the time socialism was indeed the Big Bad Wolf knocking at our door. Romney mentioned his fear for our country after watching many European nations adopt socialist ideals into their government. Scandinavian countries are indeed socialist, but not in the way of pre-WWII Germany, the USSR, or China. They certainly do pay a heaping amount in taxes (70%), but don't live under the rule of tyrannical dictators. Instead everyone gets to go to college and has free healthcare. True, Great Britain, France, Canada, and Japan have socialized programs like healthcare, but capitalism is still alive (although maybe not well) in all those, and other, industrialized nations. So while it looked that they were heading straight into Marxist ideals, it appears that a balance was struck.

That is the benefit of a two-party system, most likely: creating a balance of finding ways to take care of basic needs while watch-guarding the loss of certain freedoms. (And I am upset that both sides couldn't/wouldn't try harder to come up with a bipartisan plan.) So the question in my head that remains is: does the new healthcare law really limit our freedoms?

I don't have time to look at all news outlet's coverage of the Bill, and it is hard to find news providers that have unbiased views of the plan, and can explain in simple terms what it means to each individual. To me, it appears that government would still prefer us to get insurance through an employer. (And I don't know too many people who have declined that kind of coverage because it limited a personal freedom.) What is needed, and where the bill is (hopefully) headed, is providing a way for people to get affordable insurance if they can't get it through an employer. I've been in that situation. I understand that need. Would I have purchased a plan that was affordable? Hell, yes. $600/month (those COBRA rates given to me when I lost my job) is not affordable. The proposed exchange suggests I could pay no more than $220/ month. I could have paid for that.

Of course no one likes the thought of having to pay more taxes, and it looks like the wealthy are going to have to once-again pay the brunt of it. Luckily, I don't really fall into that category. However, after experiencing the life without health insurance and worrying about paying for my monthly prescription and/or catastrophic health problems, I feel okay about paying a bit more to avoid those concerns for myself and for people close to me. I feel that not worrying about potential bankruptcy due to staggering medical bills (for me or anyone) is a personal freedom. That is the attitude I hope to have when we have to fully live the Law of Consecration.

A friend pointed out this site:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/politics/what-health-bill-means-for-you/
I think it is helpful in explaining the plan in the way that applies to your own financial situation.

I don't know/care if you agree with the above or not. This has been weighing on my mind, and I thought I would share how I came up with my choice to agree with the healthcare plan. I am sure it is not the perfect plan, but like I said above it is a step in the right direction.

After you got done reading this, you probably thinking the same thing as me: Pulitzer, right?

It's a Good Thing I Only Went to Global Village Twice

2010-03-16T10:05:00.008-07:00

I have already mentioned Global Village, but in the interest of putting more pictures on my blog, I thought I'd talk about my second trip...which took place probably a month ago.

This particular trip I actually got to stay a bit longer since we went the night before a day off. We were in a much smaller group (5 total), and were able to easily split into smaller groups when necessary. We started out in India where I fell in like with another carpet, but I refrained from buying it. I got other stuff instead.

On our way to the Turkey pavilion, we ran into this guy who was sell cups of juice. He carries the juice on his back, and then pours it into cups with a long spout that you can kind of see off his left shoulder.

I need to get rid of that sweater.

The best part of Turkey were these fabulous bright dishes. I wanted to buy arm-fulls, but alas they are a little hard to pack...plus a little hard on the wallet.

The ladies in the photo that follows are real Emirati women. Look closely at the gold masks on their faces. This is an old tradition that mostly the older women still wear. I had to be very stealthy; they don't like getting their pictures taken.

Of course, we had to go to China and get some pearls. Again.

Jenn, Jennie, and the pearl guy who gave us better deals than the last time we were there. He remembered us.

Toria didn't get any pearls. She was a trooper to stick around while we were making up our minds.

In the West Africa pavilion I made some Senegalese friends with the the only Waloff phrase I know: Nagadeff! (It's a greeting.) They let me play with the drums. I think they assumed that then I would buy one. It wasn't nearly tempting enough...not like the real alligator skin Kelly bag look-alike. Which I also did not buy.

All of the nekkid lady statues had to be covered. heehee.

Sadly, even though we were there for hours, I still didn't see everything that I wanted. The good news is that I hear I can find a lot of the same wares in other parts of Dubai. And with much better prices.

What I'll Miss #11

2010-03-13T20:24:00.002-08:00

One of the best parts of living in a Muslim country is listening to the call to prayer about five times a day. Well, the one that goes off while I am sleeping is probably my least favorite call to prayer...

The best way to hear the call to prayer (I am sure there is a prettier Arabic word to use here, but I don't know it) is walking around when it goes off. Since there are mosques on practically every street, the mass of minarets combine to make a beautiful yet slightly haunting sound. Because the five prayers are essential to the Muslim faith, many public places like malls and airports also broadcast the call to prayer at the appropriate times. These places are also equipped with a small mosque for people to perform those rites. The Dubai TV stations will even tell its viewers when it is time to pray.

The mall where the bakery is located does have prayer rooms, but we don't get the broadcast call to prayer. It is rather surprising as I would say the majority of the patrons are Muslim. I feel like sometimes I forget about it, and last night as I walked home from the gym, I was reminded how much I like it. Prayer is an important part of my faith too. It is nice to have a reminder to pray more often.

To get an idea of this music that plays all across the Middle East, I have posted a nice YouTube clip I found of the call to pray in the evening at the Dubai Creek. The camera work is shaky, but you are meant to listen more than look.

The Rumors Are True... I Do Own a Camera

2010-03-13T08:26:00.001-08:00

I am not very good at posting pictures. The internet here is a bit slow and it takes, I swear, a little less than a kajillion hours to post an image. But I had some time tonight (I'm in between books) and thought I'd post a few pictures. Maybe I can make it a goal to post just a few each night to get caught up.

First things first. Do you remember that story I posted about my neighbor who took his falcon for walks? He also takes the bird for rides in his car. It just so happened that he and I (plus the falcon) entered the building at the same time, and I just so happened to remember my camera. I asked if I could take a picture, and he agreed. He removed the hood from his bird and I tried to get a good shot. To be honest, the picture would have been better had the hood been kept on, because the bird of prey wouldn't keep her head still.

Pretty awesome, nonetheless.

You know how on many cheesy personals ads, people usually state that they like long walks on the beach? Well I took a long walk on the beach on Valentine's Day. Pretty cheesy, eh. Maybe it's a good thing I was by myself. The tide was low, and I was fortunate to come across a teeny little tide pool filled with shells, mollusks, and a few small crabs. It is pretty extraordinary to come across any type of sea life in Dubai due to the ecological mess caused by the Palm Island.

This is my favorite shot from my walk. I actually saw a couple of live starfish slightly imbedded in the sand. I tossed them both back into the Gulf and thought that perhaps I made a difference to it's life. hahaha.

This tiny crab didn't really like it that I picked him up. But he was so small, and it reminded me of the little crabs we would dig up at Kayak Point (in Washington).

There were indeed living creatures inside the shells.

No, I am not taking pictures of shirtless guys for kicks. My camera doesn't zoom as much as I would wish, but if you look closely you will note that he is sitting on a wooden horse-type thing. It turns out that he is a polo player, and a couple times a week he comes down here and takes practice shots on the beach.

On one of my days off, my friend Joey from Swaziland took me to lunch at the Jumeirah Beach Hotel. Her husband works for the Jumeirah hotel group, and thus she gets in to such cool places. We ate at an Italian place, and I had a pretty tasty pizza.

The hotel is shaped like a wave.

and had funky camels walking about. Or standing about, rather.

The restaurant had a view of some of the little boats parked in the marina. I am jesting about the small part. I believe the big one is owned by some wealthy Russian fellow.

We also had a great view of the famous 7-star hotel, the Burj Al Arab. It is supposed to look like a sail, but from some angles it looks like a giant cockroach.

So there you have it. Proof that I live here, and proof that I own a camera. Alert the press.

What I'll Miss Installment #10

2010-03-07T19:08:00.005-08:00

Now that I've vented a few of my work-related frustrations, I need to balance that with a "What I'll Miss" segment. This will be brief, as I have a kajillion cupcakes to ice and if I am at the computer too long I will be tempted to look at Web sites that will tell me who won which Oscar.

While watching the red carpet, did you notice how smooth and hairless the actress' arms are? I bet they pay a pretty penny to get themselves all waxed for the big day. Waxing in the U.S. is a little too expensive. New York wasn't bad, but in a place like Spokane, where I imagine that very few of the population wax, the waxing fees will be quite steep: $70 for legs, $50 for arms...

Waxing in the Middle East is cheap. It is considered unsanitary to be so hairy, so there are places to wax off unnecessary hair pretty much all over the place. Sure, the fancy salons may a be a bit pricey, but the regular ones are quite reasonable.

For example, last Wednesday I went and got my arms, legs, and..um...other places waxed for a mere 180 dirhams. That's $49.00. I don't think I could wax myself at home for so little. And trust me, there are some places that shouldn't be waxed at home. (And I am very glad I figured that out before I tried it at home.)

May I vent?

2010-03-07T18:52:00.003-08:00

At the end of the workday tomorrow, I will only have three weeks left in my job. HOOOOO-RAAAAY!!!! However, these will be the longest three weeks of my life. I hate this stupid bakery.

All I want is consistent days off--once a week would be nice! All I want is to be able to go with friends when they plan a day-trip to go to Musendam, Oman to go boating, watch wild dolphins, and swim in the Indian ocean. All I want is to know with certaintly that I can't go a few days in advance and not the night before. All I want is to be able to stay out late with the few friends I have instead of having to be concerned about getting in bed on time considering I have to wake up at 5:30 every morning.

I just wanted to watch the Oscars live this morning (4:00am). Which I was supposed to have off, but here I am at work (6:30am). The channels are showing a rebroadcast tonight at 9:00pm (I go to bed at 10:00pm and if I don't I feel nauseated all the next day), and my friends are having an Oscar party to celebrate. I can stay up late and watch it only if I can get tomorrow off--or even just a few hours in the morning. Note the important word "if." That means I will be told that I can take time off but will most likely get a call at 7:30pm informing me that I still have to come in.

Do I sound a little whiny? So, what.

Future Lunch Lady

2010-03-05T10:15:00.002-08:00

So the Dubai Municipality came by and told us that instead of really cute scarves and bandanas, we now have to contain our hair with hairnets.

Yep.

Why don't they confiscate my tweezers and tattoo "spinster" on my forehead too while they're at it.

What I'll Miss Installment #9

2010-03-01T20:37:00.005-08:00

Two in one day! This will be quick because it has to be said. I will miss Masafi waters and juices.
Let me start with the waters. Sure their basic water is pretty tasty, not Volvic tasty, but good. What I prefer are the waters lightly flavored with a touch of jasmine, strawberry, peach, lemon, or lemon/mint. Especially the lemon mint. Sometimes I buy it for my Friday treat.

They also make some tasty juices. I never thought I would like Honedew Melon juice, but I do. Boy do I. I am also a fan of the pomegranate, raspberry, and acai juice too.

This is why I am not a fan of the no-more-than-4-fluid-ounces-in-a-carry-on rule. I could attempt to pack some in my suitcase, but wouldn't that just be tempting the travel gods? And we all know that they like to have their fun with me.

What I'll Miss Installment #8

2010-03-01T20:09:00.002-08:00

Seriously, I will miss some more things about Dubai, and I have pictures to prove it! However, I only feel motivated to write while I am at work laboring hard to not have to do any work. (All the photos are at home.) While I am at home, I only feel motivated to read. (Still working on What the Dog Saw, but have added Rudyard Kipling's Kim to the mix along with three Elizabeth Gaskell novels.) When did I become such a bookworm? No worries, I like the development.

Part of this newly discovered literary feast comes from the fact that I am tired of television. The other, and larger part, rests solely on the shoulders of a book group I joined with some ladies from church. I like this book group and I am going to miss it.

Instead of being assigned a book to read, we all bring a couple of books, say why we like them, and then we choose what we are individually going to read from the other offerings. This is a pretty perfect plan. You get to choose the book you want to read instead having to submit to the will of someone who likely has differing tastes...and well, you know where this leads: illiteracy. Since the group is a collection of interests and personalities, I get to read things that I probably wouldn't have chosen and/or found, like Girls of Riyadh or the aforementioned Michael Gladwell book. (However I am getting a little tired of books about the Middle East.)
I want to look cool to the other ladies, so I try to choose semi-smart novels and bring books by obscure authors.. (Like when I lived in New York, and chose intelligent-looking novels to read on the subway. I never said I wasn't shallow.)

The last thing that I am going to miss about book group is, of course, the participants. I wish this group existed when I first arrived because I have met a lot of fun people through it. It has given me at least one more thing per month to look forward to. And it has opened the door for me to get invited to other social gatherings like baby and bridal showers.

I may just have to start my own once I get to Spokane. Want to join?

What I'll Miss Installment #7

2010-02-20T20:48:00.004-08:00

I am a week behind in being grateful. It's not that I have found nothing to be grateful about; I just haven't had time to write about what I'll miss. That is the trouble of joining a book club. We exchange books so everyone is reading different things, and it is a lot of fun. This time I was bold and took two books by Michael Gladwell (Outliers and What The Dog Saw) and I am trying to finish. (Plus there have been other trips to Global Village, dinner with friends, and that one holiday that I no longer love.)

But in the past week or so, I have realized that I am really going to miss Chicken Tikka Inn--probably the best Indian food I have ever put in my mouth. The Chef and I have been ordering it for lunch quite often these past couple of weeks. For 26 AED, about $8, we can get one meal that is big enough to split. Our current favorite is the Handi Chicken Achari: chicken cooked in yogurt & their special pickle spices served in a clay pot. (Yes, that's the menu description, and when you order take out you don't get the clay pot.) It's spicy, rich, and melt-in-your-mouth delish. To accompany it we also get an order of the Tandoori Naan. Because seriously, what's an Indian meal without Naan?

Now I am hungry for lunch, and it's only 9:00 in the morning....

Pass me the tissues

2010-02-12T19:06:00.003-08:00

I don't know what makes me more homesick: missing my family or missing the Olympics. I find the fact that this year the games are so close to home and I am way over here a little heartbreaking.

I love the Olympics.

Please, please French channel: show me a couple of events!

I am reminded of when I missed the Salt Lake Olympics. Finally they were being held in a place nearby and easily accessible for the likes of me, but I was in Italy.

Being in Italy is a pretty good reason to miss the Olympics.

What I'll Miss #6

2010-02-08T10:20:00.003-08:00

I am having a hard time being grateful today--probably because I had to go to work. It was so crappy of a day that the opportunity to make all the music choices failed to lift my spirits. (Though I imagine my mood would be a kajillion times worse if I had to listen to that "Have a Baby By Me" trash and all of its cousins that attempts to call itself music. I digress.) I left work so tired that I didn't even want to work out. (But I did, I have jeans to look good in, you know.)

I have a gym membership at Fitness First--a gym that costs an awful lot of money for not very much equipment, classes, and uplifting lighting. I tried to quit in November, but then realized that I needed an outlet to see more people than just those that I work with. So I continue to go, even though the weather has been too nice to workout in a bland, dimly-lit gym.

However, once or twice a week (when I end up staying at work late) I work out at the beach. Sweet, huh? The beach near the bakery has a cushiony running trail that is about 1400 meters long. That's about .8 miles. It's not a very long trail, obviously, but walking/running that length 2-3 times makes for a worthy cupcake-burning workout. (Actually, I'm trying not to eat cupcakes at work. I've been doing pretty good. And no, I haven't taken any home.)

Plus, the view couldn't be better. I am not referring to Australian surfers, although that would be nice. The Gulf only gets good waves when it's windy. Most of the beachcombers are Middle Eastern or Filipino. I love watching the waves (no matter the size) come crashing into the sand. In the distance I can see the Burj al Arab, the World islands, various ships, and on a clear day I can see the Atlantis Hotel.

Usually I am there in time for a pretty nice sunset. Now, I know that you are thinking that Dubai is on the wrong side of the Gulf to have the sun set into the water, but because of all the money in the region they bought out the sun and told it to set over the Gulf and not the desert. Haha, not really, but it almost seems likely. The shape of the country and the situation of Dubai somehow manages a water sunset. And it is quite lovely, naturally.

One of these days I may actually put on that bathing suit that I have only worn once and go swimming or something resembling that. Until then, it will be my escape from crappy days at work.

Deliberations

2010-02-03T09:39:00.004-08:00

Due to the uplifting encouragements of my good friend Toria, I have officially purchased my first pair of skinny jeans. Thanks to the excellent prices of the Dubai Shopping Festival, I was able to get a pair of tight pants for around $40.00, otherwise I would not have given into the peer pressure. Didn't I tell you Dubai was the place to do some shopping?

I would post a picture, but I am still deciding whether or not this new purchase will enhance or destroy my already fragile self-esteem. So far I feel positive, but that may change one that PMS-time rolls around.

So why did I get them? Well, it's time to update my wardrobe. When I was in London, I realized that I have been quite frumpy as of late. (If you can imagine it, in the presence of Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York I wore oversized khakis, a baggy charcoal sweater, and a grey t-shirt. In the words of Tim Gunn: "Egads!") I can probably give several reasons for my bland wardrobe, but sufficeth to say it's time to feel better about myself and fashion is a good way to start. So is laying off the treats at work and going to the gym five days a week.

Retail therapy was a blast. I bought more than just the jeans, and could've happily purchased more. However I didn't buy that totally awesome blue/green Mulberry bag that was on sale for a mere 4000 dirhams. (That's about $1000--the equivalent of my rent.) I just drooled and started accepting applications for my future rich husband. Spread the word.

"Will look good in skinny jeans for Mulberry bag."

What I'll Miss #5

2010-02-01T06:34:00.002-08:00

Alternatively titled: Yet another blog post with a video clip.

I've already posted my frustration about the music I am forced to listen to at the bakery, however there is at least one day a week when I win the music war: Mondays...aka the other icer's day off. Even though this day usually means more work for me, I am actually closer to being happy to be at work than on any other day of the week because I get to listen to my iPod, my podcasts, and the radio station I like.

Radio stations can be rather frustrating. Usually we listen to the Virgin radio station, which I am not making this up, plays the same songs every hour including the all-request segment. Seriously, some record company is shelling out the big bucks to get these songs played at least 24 times a day. And it goes without saying that all the songs are crap. (Grain of salt warning: you all should no by know that I may be a tad picky about my music choices.) Lady Gaga and Beyonce may be growing on me but it doesn't mean that I want to hear their music All. Day. Long.

When I get to choose, I turn the dial to Dubai 92 which is a pretty enjoyable radio station. My praise sounds rather underwhelming, but perhaps it will be better when they stop playing all those horrible songs Rob Thomas keeps singing. Even though I may not like all of the songs they play, they at least play variety. And interspersed with the mediocre tunes they will play songs that I really, really like....for the most part. There is a serious Camera Obscura, Ryan Adams, Andrew Bird, and Travis deficiency in the programming (to name a few artists. I could send them my iPod for assistance).

So why will I miss them? They have very entertaining presenters. The morning show hosts Catboy and his wife Geordiebird are very funny and personable. I think they would be fun to hang out with. I am actually a little embarrassed to admit this, but for a while I was mildly convinced that we were already friends. They had commissioned the bakery to do a cake for Geordiebird's 30th birthday, and a few weeks later we sent a cake for Junk Food Day. So emails were exchanged and I kind of felt like I had finally made some friends. (Pathetic alert!!) I have other friends now, so I have stopped daydreaming about the time we are properly introduced at Dubai Mall or some sort of event. Yes, there is a giant "L" on my forehead.

Even though I have bemoaned a lack of some of my favorite bands in the music line-up, I give them total props for including musicians and songs that I probably would have never discovered on my own--the A-ha song I blogged about for example. I know I am not going to hear this gem in the states:

For the record, if Dubai 92 wanted to play this song every hour I wouldn't complain.

P.S. I am now in the market for some good red lipstick.

What I'll Miss #4

2010-01-24T08:39:00.007-08:00

What girl out there doesn't like to shop? What girl out there doesn't like an excellent deal on beautiful items? I think I am one of those girls. I must admit, sometimes lately, I haven't enjoyed shopping too much. Mostly because my "shopping" consists of looking longingly at things that I can neither afford or fit (curse those cupcakes!!). So I have been avoiding this predominately feminine past time because it kind of depresses me. However, when I was invited to do some shopping at Global Village with some ladies at church I didn't think twice about joining them.

I will miss Global Village. Probably a lot.

Global Village is almost like a fair or carnival complete with rides and gigantic lollipops, but it also has pavilions with vendors from all over the world: Philippines, Pakistan, Yemen, Indonesia, China, Malaysia, Canada, India, etc. Hence the name Global Village.

Most ladies, myself included, were only focused on one particular country: China. None of us were in the market for cheap electronics. Rather, we all wanted to get real pearls at ridiculously low prices. I came looking for blue-grey pearls to match a pair of earrings that my grandma gave me after my twentieth birthday. The first vendor we visited unfortunately didn't have any the color I needed. I was a bit upset because our gathering organizer had a pretty good relationship with this particular vendor and was able to negotiate even better deals. Luckily for me, someone from our party had another favorite pearl vendor and we headed over there. As luck would have it, he had a nice strand of pearls that we were able to negotiate down to 300 dirhams ($82.00). Now, these are not Mikimoto-perfect pearls, but they are real and they are really pretty.

The next and sadly last stop for me and a couple of others was the India Pavilion. I could have unloaded a lot of cash in this area with all the lovely pashminas and other textiles.

One of my friends, an interior designer, found some beautiful Kashmir rugs and a rocking-elephant for her apartment. While she was busy paying, I fell in love with another Kashmir rug that I just couldn't walk away from.

This rug is a little different than what you are probably imaging about rugs from this region of the world. My mom has a woven (wool and cotton) Turkish rug that is very typical, and incredibly lovely. This rug that I found, however, is embroidered in wool instead of woven. I am not sure if this picture shows off the stitching:

Anywhoo...you can find rugs like this at Anthropologie, but will have to pay handsomely. I once again paid 300 dirhams for this. Such a good deal, I may just have to go back and get some more. I almost like this style a little better than they traditional flying-carpet woven rugs. I certainly like the price. The vendor with the most beautiful silk rugs was selling his for $3000.00. Wow. (His clientele included luxury hotels and former U.S. Presidents.)

I was a little bummed that I only saw a brief smidgeon of Global Village, but fortunately my friends tend to make multiple trips so I should be able to go back a few times before the whole place shuts down on February 27th.

Please contact me with all shopping lists, and payment methods. Because I know you all want a good deal.

What I'll Miss Installment #3

2010-01-16T03:59:00.002-08:00

Lately I have been trying to reduce my television viewing time to incorporate more reading time. Additionally, I realized that besides Oprah and the few fortuitous moments I come across a Criminal Minds episode that they haven't aired already (I swear they only show that one episode where Reed gets held hostage and addicted to heroine) there really isn't much worth watching. But I still found myself watching the dumb stuff anyway. Like The Doctors.

Unfortunately I couldn't watch the two things I really wanted to watch: late night movies and Turkish telenovelas. The best shows always come on around midnight. For some reason Arabs tend to stay up really late, and so programmers have learned that they will probably have more viewers for Legally Blond at 1:00am as opposed to a decent time like 7:30. I have to be in bed by 10:30 otherwise I cannot function the next day. Sometimes I have a heard time staying up that late.

The Turkish Telenovelas come on around 10:00pm after Oprah, and I really want to watch one. I don't avoid them because of time; they actually aren't in English. They aren't in Turkish either. Rather they are dubbed in Arabic, but have no English subtitles. (English-language programs are subtitled in Arabic.) So I don't get to watch the shows--I can only be mesmerized by their commercials.

So that is what I will miss about the Middle East--the advertisements for the Turkish Telenovelas. Every commercial break during Oprah has an ad for one of the two shows that currently plays. (Like any good telenovela, the show is only about 1 season long and a new one comes on about every two months.)

So you may be wondering how it is that an Arabic-dubbed program can capture my attention by only a mere commercial. Television ads don't influence me as much as Madison Avenue would like them too. (Case in point: no feminine hygiene commercial will ever convince me that I want to twirl during That-Time-Of-The-Month. Why do all feminine hygiene commercials involve twirling? The only way that makes sense is if by "twirling' they actually mean "round-house kicking the people who annoy you.") Back to Turkish Telenovelas. For these programs I am 100% turned into the fabulous choice of music they use for the commercials. It was a "had me at hello" fascination when someone at the MBC television station chose an Aimee Man song ("Wise Up"). I didn't know too much about James Morrison prior to the commercials, and I can now confess to loving this song:

I have heard a few other songs whose performers I have yet to discover, but let me tell you I don't turn down the T.V. volume to read during commercial breaks, like I do during feminine hygiene adverts. I turn the volume up and enjoy the good music.

What I'll Miss Installment #2

2010-01-08T19:52:00.002-08:00

Well I was hoping to post a bit more in between installments...maybe tonight.

Thursday night I headed to Dubai Mall to catch one of the latest flicks. The nice thing about blockbuster movies is that they come to Dubai around the same time as they are released stateside. That's a real blessing because who wants to wait an additional six months for New Moon? Haha. Unfortunately, movies that I really want to see like An Education, Bright Star and 500 Days of Summer take their sweet little time in arriving.

While deciding what to see at Dubai Mall, I came across the trailer for a film playing in the cinema's Picturehouse Theatre: Cold Souls. Have you heard of this movie? I hadn't. The Picturehouse is a mildly swanky viewing room (less so than, say, the Gold Class Cinemas or Platinum Class at the Dubai mall), which doesn't allow eating (they do, however, need to work on the "no cell phones" rule), and it only plays independent or limited release films.

I could have watched Avatar, Sherlock Holmes or Princess and the Frog, but instead I chose Cold Souls and I am very glad I did. In this film Paul Giamatti plays himself, and being weighed down by some darkness in his soul, he decides to have it removed and stored. When he realizes he wants it back, he has to go to Russia to retrieve it. I'm leaving out details because I really want you to see it. The film, costarring David Strathairn and Emily Watson, mixes comedy and drama with just a hint of absurdity; the result is quite lovely.

I will miss The Picturehouse. As much as I like a nice, mindless blockbuster, I appreciate films that are unique and at times slightly odd. I need a good unpredictable story, and sometimes those films are the ones that are released to a limited number of theatres. When I am home in Spokane I may not even hear about these films, let alone see them.

I will not miss the dumb teenagers who come in late (giggling), take phone calls (loudly), and then leave the film early (giggling).

What I'll Miss...

2010-01-01T08:31:00.002-08:00

It's always a tricky thing to come up with one resolves to do for a full year, and let's be honest I don't think I have ever been successful with any of my resolutions. But each year, like most of you, I still have a burning need to resolve to do something to improve myself. Most of the time it is to eat less sugar. (I still have that one for 2010, but won't really take it too seriously until I no longer work in a bakery.)

The past months I noticed that I have a tendency to complain about things...mostly my job and where I live...or rather how my job inhibits my ability to enjoy where I live. It seems like we have been talking a lot about gratitude at church, and I realized that I could do with a more thankful attitude. So, here is one of my resolutions: once a week I have to write about something I am grateful for. Since I will also be leaving Dubai shortly, I am turning it into "What I Will Miss" so I can continue to share things about Dubai, and more particularly, the things that have lifted my spirits while I've been here.

So here it is. Installment numero uno:

I will miss the people at church. In later posts I will probably highlight specific people, but today I want to show my gratitude for the opportunity to mingle with such an international crowd. With both Dubai congregations combined, we really do represent the four corners of the earth. After a brief survey of the crowd for our Christmas activity, I noted that we had representation from every continent, excepting Antarctica of course. It is really something to behold.

Alongside the sheer joy of being with such an eclectic crowd (seriously, where else am I going to be able to meet people from Sri Lanka, Greece, and Columbia all in the same evening without attending an Olympic sporting event?), I think the real beauty is getting to see the world through their eyes. I think being surrounded by people with the same types of education, religious thoughts, hobbies, interests, and culture we forget that there may actually be people out there who are indeed different. That comment sounds a little blaise, (is that the word I want), but I am looking for words to express what I mean. I think we all know that we can learn from the differences in other people, maybe I am grateful for those small things that I do end up learning from people of different cultures.

In my branch we have sweet lady from Swaziland. Today she was teaching about love, service and charity and she shared experiences from her homeland. She talked about a friend that has adopted 17 children who have lost both of their parents to the AIDS epidemic that is sweeping that part of Africa. I am not really sure why it is that her stories touched my heart so deeply, but I was inspired to do better and to seek out opportunities to give more service. Maybe I can't provide gifts to thousands of orphans at Christmastime, but there is someone out there that I can provide a service to.

So that's what I'll miss: being surrounded by people of other cultures who inspire me to do better.

Wish I Had a Camera Moment #1,467,298

2009-12-15T09:29:00.002-08:00

Alternately Titled: I Left My Eagle at Home

I don't bring my camera along as much as I should. Anyway it's kind of slow, and usually by the time it's up and running the photo op is long gone.

Tonight would have been just one of those experiences, and boy would I have liked to have had my camera at the ready:

I was standing outside my apartment building waiting for a friend from church, when one of the building's residents came walking towards the front doors carrying his pet. This maybe doesn't appear so out of the ordinary as us Westerners are used to walking dogs, and sometimes even cats on a rare occasion (that I mostly witnessed in France). This Arab guy was carrying his falcon. I do know that falconry was a popular sport in the region, I just never thought I'd see a guy take his bird for a nice evening stroll. (I don't know why he was carrying the bird around on his arm, but he walked like it was the most natural thing to do.)

Yes I stared. I had to get that mental picture because obviously I didn't have my camera.

How Good Do I Have to Be to Get...

2009-12-13T01:42:00.004-08:00

...this totally adorable half-apron in Christmas print from Cath Kidston? How good do I have to be to get anything from her Web site? I swear, Santa, I've been a super good girl this year.

I'm Dreaming of a Wet Christmas

2009-12-12T03:32:00.004-08:00

I am sure you will all recall being a child and eagerly anticipating that certain change of weather that the winter months bring. Most assuredly our eyes searched the heavens for at least one snowflake--any sign that meant that school could be closed the next day. Being in the desert the kids don't really get to experience the joy of falling snow. I imagine it's probably hard for the expat kids (who know about snow) to hear songs like "White Christmas" or "Let it Snow" without looking towards the heavens for a weather-related Christmas miracle, instead of the fake stuff at Ski Dubai.

And now that we are adults, even though we know what hassles the snow can bring, we can't help but feel a little giddy about the first snowfall of the year, especially when accompanied by the elated shouts of a kid greeting the flakes with a jubilant "It's snowing!!"

And I thought I would miss that feeling here.

This last week, the weather has finally turned chilly enough for me to reach for a sweatshirt for my walk to work. The clouds started to cover the sky, and the wind has picked up. We even had a sandstorm that caused the city to appear encased in fog. It is almost like a good winter.

Yesterday after church, while chatting with friends, the feet of a few boys thundered to the nearest window. Without even a word, one could sense that they were excited about something going on outside. Almost in unison they proclaimed, "It's raining!" and quickly headed for the exit to go play in the rain. My own heart leapt in excitement. Rain! It's finally raining!

Oh sure, you can't build rain-forts, have rainball fights, or make rain angels, but when you haven't seen a drop of precipitation since March the first rainfall somehow feels a lot like snow. And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish my work and get outside. There are some puddles to jump in!

Back to Dubai

2009-12-02T09:31:00.002-08:00

I've spent a good amount of time not talking about Dubai, and now that I've finished my vacation I can start talking about where I am living currently. And since today in the 38th National Day, I thought I would celebrate by sharing some cultural aspects of this oh so patriotic holiday.

The 38th National Day fell one week after Eid, which in the Islamic world is a pretty important holiday. No, it's not Ramadan, but it does celebrate the pilgrimage to Mecca that is an important pillar in the Islamic faith. However, if you have been Dubai this past week, you would not have noticed any of the Eid celebrations, but you would see preparations for National Day. Excuse me, the 38th National Day.

One of the biggest traditions is car decorating. People will dress up their very expensive cars in stickers and streamers and then parade around town with all of their friends shooting off fireworks and spraying silly sting. Here's a video clip to show you what the cars look like:

Happy 38th National Day!

Part Four: Signs

2009-12-02T08:08:00.007-08:00

The best part of my trip to London was spending time with Corina. She moved to London over a year ago to get her Master's Degree. When she finished, she had every intention of returning to the States to spend time with the people who represent a safe haven. However, she realized that she needed to stay in London. Now she is my biggest cheerleader to get me to stay in the UK permanently.

It should be no surprise to most people that know me well that I have a huge desire to live in England. It could be because I've spent too many hours watching BBC miniseries, but the truth is I've been daydreaming about this since I was little. Maybe it was Charles & Diana's wedding. Maybe it was a copy of the Friend magazine that was entirely devoted to that small country. All I know is that I want to be there. So my good friend spent my last and final day of vacation pointing out that I was meant to be in England.

#1 Who doesn't like tweed? Who doesn't like a totally British older couple dressed head to toe in tweed? How is this a sign? Not sure, except for the totally British scene.

#2 Free Museums. My original plan was to go check out the jewels at the Tower of London, which incidentally does cost money. Since I needed to be in South Kensington anyway I went to look at the jewels at the Victoria & Albert Museum. Unlike the many museums in New York that let you bypass the extraordinarily high ticket fees with a conscience-soothing "donation," the V&A is actually free. I could drop a few pence in the donation bucket if I so felt the urge, but it wasn't required for entry. (Also, this wasn't the special Target "free day" either.) We only had time for two of the exhibits, but that's what great about free museums, you can go again and again until you have had your fill.

#3The awesomest celebrity sighting EVER. Oh sure, I can use up all my digits counting the famous and notable folk I've seen in New York, but in England there is one class of celebrity that is a little hard to come by in the U.S.: royalty. After the V&A Corina and I serendipitously came upon a blink-and-you'll-miss-it Scandinavian restaurant. After we had seated ourselves and chosen our lunch items, I looked over to my right and saw Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York no farther than five feet away. (Yes, she got to keep the title.) I know!! Luckily with all my NYC celebrity sightings I was totally able to keep my cool. No, I didn't talk to her, that would be silly. But I saw her!!!

#4 There is that pretty yummy cupcake bakery I previously mentioned. You know, in case I ever need additional income. They also have pretty awesome packaging.

#5 While walking around the Temple area, from what I gather it is where a lot of legal stuff goes down, we saw some legal stuff going down. Or rather, we saw people in the full legal attire officially marching off to court in a very "Pomp & Circumstance" formality. American legal proceedings, except for the ones on TV, are usually not very interesting as this was. Especially where legal attire is concerned.

#6 My blood is here. Maybe part of the reason I want to be here is because of my ancestry. Check this out:

My friend Sarah actually found this place shortly after she moved to London. This Inn is not a form of hotel p.s.andbytheway. According to the short bit of research I've done, it is just building used for legal purposes...since about the 1400's. And it's pretty cool that it is still standing, and in use.

#7 Cadbury bars. Those Double Deckers are tasty.

All of the above and another quick walk long the Thames and I was sold. Sure I need to be an adult and everything, but I can so do that in England. And that heavy heart that I had when walking into the Dubai airport the following morning told me that at least rather be there than here.

Part Three: Sunday Peep Show

2009-12-01T09:21:00.005-08:00

Corina's apartment complex is a group of small buildings clustered together in C-shaped groups of three throughout the area. Her small studio is rather roomy, it's size enhanced (most likely) by really big windows in the living room and in the bathroom. After my steamy shower in her shower-curtain-less bathroom, I decided to open the window just slightly to de-fog the mirrors and let the steam out. A slight breeze latched onto the window and it opened. All. The. Way. There I stood, in my birthday suit, wondering what I should do. Especially since I left my towel on the other side of the bathroom--requiring me to pass by the open window to retrieve it. Problem.

Crouching down I surveyed the area, and didn't see anyone walking about in front of their large windows. I felt confident enough that no one would see me as I streaked across the bathroom. So off I went, crouching down, to get my towel. Then, not thinking, I wrapped that towel around me while standing, and while facing the great outdoors. I prayed that no one saw me.

At church, we had what I consider my favorite Sunday of the year: Primary Program Sunday. This is where the kids sing songs and talk about all the things they learned at church throughout the year. This year the theme was "My Eternal Family," and the kids related their (good, positive) feelings for their families. The best part of these programs is the fact that these children are not trained performers so there will be one or two who "shine" differently than the other children. I was quite taken with one girl who obviously had no clue what they were singing. Oh, she would mouth the words with a very open mouth, but you could amusingly note that her mouth movements did not match the words to the songs. It was a classic Primary Program moment.

After being spiritually filled at church, we rushed home to eat lunch and get Gillian on her train back to Coventry. As we walked into Corina's complex a reddish BMW drove by with a couple of guys in it. They made a point of smiling, waving, and blowing kisses...at me. At first I thought back to how charming British men have been throughout my trip. Corina concurred (as she has had quite a bit of dating success there in England). Then it hit me like a big gust of cold air...they saw me. All of me. As I dashed all nakey across my friend's bathroom. Well, I'm glad they liked the show. (You didn't really think that I would escape that sort of dilemma without any repercussions, did you?)

My feet were still throbbing, and I welcomed a quiet Sunday afternoon at home. Plus I was a little embarrassed to leave the apartment in daylight. But, I was in England after all. If you have never had a chance to visit London, you should know that walking along the Thames is a must. Especially at night. That particular Sunday evening in late October was an ideal time for such a walk. Not only were Corina and I out there, but so was a nice handful of the London population.

The bus dropped us off by the famous Old Vic Theatre and we wandered westwards past Parliament and Big Ben. It made me really happy to be in a city where I could walk and sightsee. Dubai is not a pedestrian city. Even if it was, it is too hot to enjoy walking. It goes without saying that I enjoyed every step and every sight along the way...even if my blisters shouted in agony. If I had a crush on England before I visited, my feelings had developed into full-blown love.

Speaking of love, the final Sunday activity was to visit my friend and former roommate Sarah. Sarah left for England the same time I left for Beirut, only her experiences have turned out much better than mine. So good, in fact, that she met her husband a few short hours after arriving. It was nice to finally meet Jack. He seems very charming, and just the sort of fellow I would want my good friend to marry. Well done, Sarah.

Of course, it does make me wonder if I could be as lucky if I moved to England. I do have a couple of fellows in a reddish BMW that seemed quite taken with me...

Part Two: What Happened to My Toes?

2009-11-30T07:43:00.008-08:00

I had every intention of waking up bright and early to be dressed and ready for my friend Gillian to arrive from Coventry. Hmmm...instead I woke up when she called to say that she was five minutes from arriving. Whoops. Corina and I immediately put some clothes on and rushed out to meet her. I hadn't seen Gillian since December 2006 when I made a holiday trip to Seattle, and it goes without saying that it was good to see her again.

Gillian kindly waited for me to wash my hair and to look somewhat presentable before greeting the mean streets of London. After a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs with carrots and a crumpet (it is England, indeed!), Gillian and I left Corina to do some job searching and headed straight for Picadilly.

We hadn't walked for very long before my pinky toes decided that they didn't like the totally cute blue flats that I got a Target. With every step my toes got pushed further and further into the sides of the shoes to the point where I was about to kick them to the curb and go barefoot. Kind of a lame way to start the day, but a good excuse to go shoe shopping. Gillian had an errand at the Apple store, so I made an unsuccessful trip to the Nike store. (Is it me, or is Nike just producing ugly shoes these days?) I went to a couple other places until Gillian and I struck comfy shoe gold when we spotted a sale at the Clarks store. With a new pair of red MaryJanes, I was ready to get back on the road, and in particular Portobello Road.

Gillian navigated the tube system to get us to Notting Hill. Like most of you, I imagine, my only knowledge of this charming neighborhood is by the romantic comedy bearing the same name. Notting Hill is even better in person. We ate lunch at Eat-- a kind of Pret A Manger establishment where you can by freshly made sandwiches and stuff. After lunch I ate a Double Decker (making a total of two Cadbury bars so far.)

Portobello Road is a street full of vintage stores and other quaint shops, plus it holds a street market where people sell old knickknacks, jewelry, produce, etcetera. I nearly bought a lovely cameo ring, but at 20 quid I wasn't sure that I wanted to spend that much money. I kind of regret that...maybe next time. If you were hanging out with us, you would have thought that perhaps Gillian was shopping for single men. I hope she doesn't mind me recording this memory, but it was really hilarious. If there was a well-toned fellow within twenty feet of us, she spotted him. I could barely keep up.

That being said, let me just briefly state one thing that I absolutely loved about London. I noticed that if a guy saw a girl he liked he would smile at her. Well, I certainly noticed it happened in my direction. It was incredibly flattering. Now, certainly it wasn't the first time a fellow noticed me. Hispanic men honk, whistle, and shout. Persian men stare. Creepily. I am pretty sure we could come to all sorts of conclusions about why I like the male Brit attentions, but with Hispanic and Persian men I just get the impression that they do the same things to no matter which female walks by them. It is much better for the self-esteem, when a select few make you feel good about yourself as they smile when you walk by.

Another thing I loved: Hummingbird Bakery. I went there with the express reason to taste their products and bring cupcakes back to Dubai. Hummingbird is another one of the many cupcake/American style dessert shops on this planet. It does have a good clientele, including Gwyneth Paltrow, and in my opinion the most delicious vanilla cake I have ever tasted. Better than Magnolia, and better than where I currently work. They were clean out of cupcakes when Gillian and I arrived at 5pm. But I had a huge slice of their gorgeous vanilla cake.

As we headed to the tube Gillian and I found the bookstore from Notting Hill.

On the tube we smiled at the cute boys, exchanged stories, and I wanted to chop off my feet. My pinky toes were still hurting, and the balls of my feet were also joining the pity party. They complained loudly, but I pretended not to hear them.

We met up with Corina who showed us a Chipotle knock-off, and for two tortilla-deprived girls it was heaven.

She also introduced us to the Angel neighborhood where Gillian encountered an Israeli waiter whom she thought was an angel. She was quite taken with him. I was more taken with the polenta, lime, pistachio cake slice I bought. (Are you keeping a sugar tally? I am just as amazed that I didn't have an upset stomach.) No worries, Corina walked us all over a part of London I would have never even thought to visit. Well, rather, I hobbled along and occasionally stopped to gawk, gush, and swoon over the clothes and other objects in store windows. I realized then and there that the reason I like fall so much is because of fall clothes.

After a quick errand at Sainsbury grocery store where we picked up food for the next day, orange-flavored KitKats, and bath foam (for 15 pence!) we took our tired and cranky feet home. I took off my shoes to survey the damage. Ouch! Blisters on the balls of my feet, and two very large blisters on the tips of my pinkies. So big that they were pushing my toenails off. I did some minor surgery on them and happily stayed off them for the rest of the evening.

Layover in London: Part One

2009-11-29T08:03:00.006-08:00

Fortunately the travel deity was smiling on me during my trip to London, and I had an infinitely better flight. (Except for a little discussion I had with a security guy about the need for more than one Ziplock bag. Seriously, who can fit all the toiletries in one quart-sized bag?!?!) I couldn't sleep as well as I wanted during the flight, but that problem was ameliorated by the precocious German-speaking Swiss boy seated next to me. He was probably five or six, and at first he couldn't quite grasp the fact that I had no clue what he was saying to me. His mom explained to him that I spoke English, but I think we managed to be friends anyway. At times when I would wake up from my brief, sporadic naps I would find his head on my shoulder or his arm on his lap. I hope his mom was okay with that....

Because I had filled my umpteen suitcases and carry-on bags with treats from the States, I decided not to be that annoying passenger on the tube and instead took a cab from Heathrow to my friend Corina's house. Plus, I think taking one of those iconic London taxi cabs are part of the fun of visiting England. I must admit that I grinned to myself when the driver sat in the other side of the car. It's funny--I almost believed that driving on the right side of the car is just something the Brits do for the tourists, but after being on the freeway for awhile I realized that everyone drives that way, not just cabs full of American tourists.

Eighty-five whopping pounds later I arrived at Corina's apartment a little tired, but totally giddy. While Corina had a tea-date and some job searching to do, I showered and afterwards took a walk to get the blood flowing. I liked her neighborhood. It had charming houses, trees, and it was utterly and completely British.

I also ate a Star Bar, which officially began my goal to eat Cadbury every day on my trip.

I took a nap, ate some potato kale soup, and then Corina and I headed for some nightlife. The blessing of staying with a friend in a city like this one is that you get to hang out with someone who actually knows what to do once the museums close for the night. When I was visited London in 2002, I was completely baffled at the thought of entertaining myself at night. I'm not one for bars and clubs, so yes after a cheap meal at the hostel I would spend the evening alone in my room reading a book. Nerdy? You bet. But at least I saw a show one night.

Back to London Trip 2009. Corina and I took a bus (which also drives on the other side of the road) to some part of town and we went to an open mic night that one of her church friends organizes. We went to some bar that had a lot of Jamaican/African customers. We were two of the maybe seven white people in this very crowded establishment. Which, of course, made it even more interesting. There were some fabulous singers, and some not-so-fabulous singers, but it was so fun. Corina and I were even asked to have our picture taken for some publicity shots to show people that the open mic night draws a diverse crowd. I think it was the first time I added to the diversity of a crowd.

Corina and I are both tall people, and I don't know how it is for short people, but it is hard for both of us to stand for a long time without experiencing lower back pain, so we ended up leaving the bar before the mic closed. Probably for the best as I was tired, and needed energy for a full day of London sightseeing the next day.

Last Days

2009-11-23T08:32:00.006-08:00

I hope to have my vacation blogging finished soon. It has been crazy busy at work, and I have been a little too cranky to type things up. Plus there has been this little issue with me trying to move a picture from iPhoto to this blog. I think I've figured it out.

I spent the last few days in the U.S. of A in Seattle with my sister, cousins, and friends. I was really glad that my sister Andrea accompanied me the last few days, and not only because she provided me with transportation. Our quality time actuality started in Spokane when we went and saw Where the Wild Things Are and I helped her become Madame Hooch for a Halloween party.

We had a nice drive across the mountains, and arrived at my cousin Alicia's house in time for a nice walk to my old junior high. The walk to and from school when I was younger was the reason I was a twig. It is uphill both ways, and one of those hills is actually a staircase consisting of 210 railroad tie steps. It was a good workout for us, and we totally earned Alicia's good soup and cinnamon rolls. I could so use a workout like that here.

Andrea was my shadow for a bit the following day when we met my former co-worker, Michael, for lunch at Noah's Bagels in Mercer Island. (I had chili and a pumpkin bagel). It was fun meeting up with Michael, and he told me all about cyclocross (cross-country biking). Maybe I'll have to take that up one of these days. He took a picture of me and my sis, but it still in my email... After that filling meal and conversation, Andrea and I headed to Pike Place Market. No visit to Seattle is complete without a trip there. If I could, I would've hugged that place.

I hugged my sister instead as we took that self photo. I bought some jams and honey, and then we decided to warm up a bit with a cup of hot chocolate from Dilletante. No cup of autumn cocoa is complete without a donut, so we headed to Top Pot. It has been a really long time since I have eaten a donut, and the old-fashioned varieties we chose were heavenly. I picked out a pumpkin flavor. (P.S. Not only did I attempt to eat huge amounts of junk food while home, I also sought out anything pumpkin.) Upon our return to Alicia's house, we were surprised with a visit from our cousin Stephanie, who joined us all for a taco dinner. I was so glad she came over. We worked off our treats of the day with a trip to the gym with Alicia.

Cousin-time continued the next day as Andrea and I drove up to spend the day with my Natalie and her two daughters. I have already told you about sweet Leah, and well, as you may have guessed, she continued to be sweet. We played with some toys and Natalie introduced us to Yo Gabba Gabba--pretty much the coolest kids show on the tube these days. (Look out next year for an appearance from Weezer on the show!) We trekked of to a new Fred Meyer store for lunch with Uncle Bruce, and to collect last minute items like Crystal Light and Little Debbie snacks. (Not for me, by the way). It was sad to make a round of good-byes to Uncle Bruce, Natalie, and her girls. But very comforting to know that in roughly 4 1/2 months I can see them again.

That night I finally met up with some Seattle friends. I didn't make as much time for friends in this trip as I would have liked, so my deepest apologies for any oversights and hurt feelings. (Remember, I'll be back in the state in March 2010!!) Andrea and I joined Erin, Carol, Brett, Stacey, and Bob for dinner at PF Chang. It was good food, but it didn't hold a candle to the joy one has when catching up and reminiscing about fun memories. Some of us, and I won't name names here, felt it necessary to bring up some pretty embarrassing stories about a certain blogger who will also remain nameless. Will no one forget my foibles?!?! After the fortune cookies were cracked, we resumed the chatter at Erin's until Stacey fell asleep on Bob's shoulder, and we all decided to call it a night. I recently watched on Oprah, that people in Okinawa credit their longevity to a good friendship support system. I totally get that. That night re-juvinated me.

Finally the sad day came for me to leave the companionship of family and friends. I visited the temple, and then Andrea had a very filling, although not-so-nutritious, meal from Triple X. I love that place. Andrea totally dug it too, as I knew she would. Not only are the burgers good and greasy, but the root beer is pretty awesome. Andrea also appreciated the classic car decor.

At last Andrea drove me to the airport. I had a great time with my sister. We hadn't hung out like that since she visited me in New York nearly two years ago. Thanks Andrea for joining me in Seattle!

I hugged her good-bye, and got on the plane. Next stop: London.

Growing Up

2009-11-16T09:02:00.004-08:00

*Author's note: I edited the 3rd from the bottom paragraph to reflect, that I actually do like living on foreign soils.

One of the best parts of being home was being taken care of by my parents. Even though I am thirty-three years old, and quite independent, it was nice to be under the watchful eye of loving caregivers. As it turns out, however, this thirty-three year old independent girl is still quite dependent.

While I was home I went to the dentist (no cavities!!), bought a new computer, and updated my wardrobe a bit--all thanks to mom and dad. I couldn't have done any of that without the financial backing of my more solvent parental unit. Their wonderful generosity, for which I am incredibly grateful, provided a mean sort of revelation that at my age, and especially after all the career choices I have made, I am not self-reliant.

Due to the economic crisis, and the recent Sunday School lesson on self-reliance, this fact weighed down on my mind. My career choice isn't turning into what I want. (Again.) And worse, it isn't even helping me survive as an adult. Part of the problem is that I live in Dubai, and my boss pays me less here than what I could bring home in the States. The payment of a "great experience" has far from panned out as well. And now I hate my once-hobby. Once again I feel like I am back at square one, and still trying to figure out this whole "being a grown-up" business.

It is an interesting sort of challenge to choose one's life-work or career. We have so many choices, and thanks to Barbie, girls like me feel they can do anything (like Barbie!--please note that she is now a Fairy Princess, and that isn't a very lucrative career choice). Perhaps if I lived in the 1950's my career choice would be easier as they would pretty much be limited to: teacher, secretary, nurse, and mother. Maybe growing up would be easier with less choices.

Part of the trouble of trying to figure out "what we want to be when we grow up" is because we tend pigeon-hole "be" as the type of occupation, and we forget there is a bit more to being a grown-up. Maybe at age five we should have asked ourselves, "what kind of life do I want to have when I grow up," and then we could find the career that fits in with that lifestyle.

And that is the scale I am going to use from here on out in deciding my adult behavior. Here's what I've figured out so far:

I'm not very good with desk jobs; I get easily distracted and end up writing more personal emails than business ones. I like having real weekends, and holidays off. I like to spend time with my family, and yet I like to travel away from them. I need a place that fosters creativity and problem solving. I prefer to have interaction--I'm pretty sure I have cubicle-induced ADHD. I want time for projects, hobbies, and things I want to learn like upholstering or other languages. I want to have friends close by--new and old. I want to use those foreign language skills that I acquired. I want to dress up for work; my spirit needs to dress up, and I fear I've forgotten how to do it. And if I bake for money, it will be small projects on my time off or a summer farmer's market. And when I bake for fun, it will not be cupcakes. And finally, when I live in a different country I want to be able to actually live in that country--not just work the whole time.

I think I have figured out a path, but would like your input as well (yes, a request for comments). In the meantime, I will plan on returning to school. And in April I will be back under my parent's roof, letting them take care of me, hanging out in their bedroom watching Criminal Minds and eating popcorn while I get all of this figured/planned out.

Now, however, I have to go finish my laundry because, unfortunately, my mom isn't here to do it for me. And it is one of the few grown-up things I can do successfully, after all.

Yes, Please!

2009-11-11T22:51:00.002-08:00

I interrupt my travelogue to post a video of a song from a band that I love. Apparently this song has been on the airwaves for about a month, so I am probably a little love in showing my affection. But in case the rest of you have either been on vacation or suffering through someone else's iPod, like me, here is something a little joyful and hopeful.

I would say that is a bit more "pop" than their music is normally, but I like it. I like the hopeful vibe. I haven't been feeling that adjective very often since my move to the Middle East, and it's nice to have music influence a good mood.

P.S. and by the way, the band is releasing their "greatest hits" collection soon/now. Sure, I have a lot of their songs anyway, but I think it could be a worthy purchase. So, if you were wondering what to get me for Christmas...

From one Desert to Another

2009-11-09T23:59:00.005-08:00

You may be getting pretty tired of these picture-less vacation posts, but you will have to deal with it because: 1) I didn't use my camera for 2/3 of my vacation; 2) I haven't figured out how to post a picture I saved in iPhoto (on my new Mac. Help someone!); and 3) you already know what you look like anyway.

Since my sister's teeth surgery was more important than flying the whole family to Seattle (indeed it was, I'm not being sarcastic) my sister flew me down to see my niece and nephew, both of whom have grown quite a bit since I saw them a whopping two years ago. Sam is nearly my height, and even though his voice is much lower, it sounded just like him. The best word to describe Liz is: pixie. With her heart-shaped face, lithe frame, small mouth, and hair that flips in places she is very much like a pixie. What good-looking kids. What good kids, too. I couldn't help but feel that they were good and tried to do good as well.

In the interest of keeping this interesting, I'll cover the main points of my visit to Arizona:

the first order of business on my trip to Arizona was my nephew's football game. This is his first year playing football, and he is a fullback on the 9th grade team. I was warned that the team wasn't very successful, and the rumor proved true during the first few seconds when the opposing team scored a touchdown and a two-point conversion. I was very glad that Sam got to play a lot during the 4th quarter (and carry the ball too!) otherwise I wouldn't have been able to say "I am so glad that I got to see you play!" after his team got sorely beaten. Sam loves playing football, and he has not yet been discouraged by the lack of wins; hard practices, and the jerky starting players. I love that he enjoys it.

The next day Amy introduced me to what I see as the one benefit of living in Arizona: RetroTV. We should probably be embarrassed to admit to watching countless hours of T.V. instead of touring Phoenix, but it was loads of fun reminiscing over our favorite childhood shows, like Emergency! and A-Team. The latter remains a T.V. icon (and an upcoming feature-length film), but does anyone else remember Emergency!--the late 70's medical drama(?) about a couple of EMT, doctors, and taciturn nurse? It was fabulous--it's even better to watch it now, and compare it with similar shows in our day that probably hire doctors to help write the medical stuff. The stark differences between medical dramas today and that show turned the once-dramatic stuff into sheer comedy: "We don't know why your toddler stopped breathing, but we do know that it happens sometimes." Or "How do we get this (80-year-old) woman off the hill during the wildfire?" "We can strap the stretcher to the top of our truck." Something very similar to that, at least.

Friday, we made a quick mile or so hike on this little hill somewhere in Phoenix. Sam, in full football-training mode decided to run. Show-off. I was glad that it was not humid and that we didn't see any rattlesnakes or scorpions. Liz saw a roadrunner. My sister and I discussed my future.

It's always fun to see Uncle Jerry, although the visit was pretty quick. He mostly just asked about Dubai, and I was glad to recount as much as I could. Sometimes I get a little boring when people find out that I actually haven't seen anything too exciting. I haven't even seen a camel.

While in town, I got a much needed haircut. I've had my haircut twice in the Middle East, and both times were disappointing. While in the chair it was discovered that my hair is wavier than I thought. It's amazing what one can discover with good hair products and a diffuser. And to think that I've been hiding all of this in a ponytail and under a bandanna. I've been trying to let it go wavy in public now, but I am not sure what to do with the bangs, and I need bangs.

I ate my first Sprinkles cupcakes. They were fine. I liked the idea of the cinnamon sugar cupcake, though. It's nice to have a non-frosting option.

IloveyouAnthropologieforeverandeverandeverandoneofthesedaysIwillgetabetterjobsoIcanafford you.

I had a fun night out with my friend LeeAnn, who left Seattle for Phoenix about the time I left for NYC. It's always good to hang out with her. I love that she loves her job; it inspires me. Plus she's active and social, and that inspires me as well. We went to a lyrical opera entitled "The Turn of a Screw" or something like that. Here's my thoughts: Don't go. Unless you absolutely love everything that is in the form of an opera or love everything that Henry James wrote. I didn't love the music or the idea of ghosts fondling children. LeeAnn felt the same way, so we ditched the opera for Greek food, frozen yogurt, and good conversation. So much better than the opera.
Saturday morning Liz and I helped my sister with a photo shoot/promotion for a dog kennel/place to do dog stuff. Liz was very confident about setting up our information booth; I guess she helps out pretty often. Then I got to sit with her and chat about school, fashion, and all the dogs we saw. She was such a fun baby, toddler, little girl, and now that she is 12 years old she is growing into a fabulous person.
I don't remember which days these things happened, but they made me happy. One night for dinner my brother-in-law Jake made burritos, and we s'mores for dessert. Another time we ate waffles. I've missed those food items. But I think you already know that.
So apparently Blogger wants to do funny stuff with my bullet points. Oh well.
Sunday morning my sister and I participated in the Susan G. Komen Walk for the Cure, although I would like to submit that the event should be called the Susan G. Komen Shuffle for the Cure because there were so many people that we didn't really take any normal walking strides. I was glad to do the walk for such a good cause, and I wore a friend's name on my back to show support for her. However, I just have to say these two things: 1)I don't particularly like cheerleaders shouting out cheers like, "Go Boobies!" It sounds like something one would hear at Hooters or Las Vegas. 2) It was a 5k walk/shuffle--not a race--and it was so not hard, so the typical "you're almost done" "good work" "you can do it" shouts were a little misplaced. It's not a marathon, for crying out loud. The only place where those cheers may be necessary would be while standing in a long line in front of an outhouse at such events. Those are my opinions, treat them as such.

Thanks Amy, Jake, Sam, Liz, and Shadow the dog that became my shadow. I had a wonderful time.

From the Laboratory vs. From the Garden

2009-11-06T23:10:00.003-08:00

The funny thing about my trip to the states was that, as far as food is concerned, all I wanted to eat was good ol' American junk food. Even before my trip, I anticipated treats like Diet Dr. Pepper, Top Pot donuts, Sonic tater tots, and processed lunch meat. Oh yes, my first sandwich upon arrival at the folk's house was a bologna sandwich, with cheese, mustard, and potato chips (inside the sandwich, naturally.) I snacked on the candy in Grandma's room; had a can of various brands of diet cola each day; ate copious amounts of microwaved popcorn (oh wait, I do that in Dubai too); enjoyed different types of fried potatoes, luxuriously devoured a pumpkin pie shake from Jack in the Box, and shared a cream puff with my Grandma (although that was entirely her idea. Well, she was craving one, I encouraged her to buy it with the offer to share). It would appear from that menu that my one goal for that trip was to shorten my life with clogged arteries, or depending on your opinion, lengthen it with a plethora of preservatives.

Who can say? But when conversing with my American friend who lives in London, she had a similar desire to eat processed food as well. I specifically recall that she hunted down some Cheez-Its during her recent U.S. vacation. In Bill Bryson's book I'm a Stranger Here Myself, a collection of articles he wrote for London's Daily Mail about returning to the States after 20 years in the UK, he writes one article about his trip to the grocery store to giddily buy as much American processed junk as his wife would let him. She begrudgingly agreed, but with the understanding that he would have to eat all the of the frozen waffles, chips, snack cakes, candy, etc. by himself. He was happy to do so, but quickly grew sick of all the junk, and even hid some in the back of his refrigerator. (P.S.: read the book; it is laugh-out-loud hilarious.)

In my short time in the States, I never quite reached the "sick of the junk food" phase--even when my waistline was exhibiting signs of expansion. I was determined to get it all in--like that huge bowl of caramel popcorn...yum.

I think I can credit the lack of junk-food sickness because my diet was also filled with delicious home cooked meals with produce from the garden, homemade bread (although that did contribute to midsection growth, as bread likes to do), oatmeal cooked all night in a crockpot, and did I mention vegetables from the garden. Nothing says "invest in a farm co-op" like the taste of a home-grown tomato.

In fact, one of my favorite meals was one that yours truly whipped up. On our beautiful drive from Seattle to Spokane, my family stopped in Ellensburg to visit our friends Bob and Sandy. They have been family friends since before my parents got married. Without them I would have been stuck at the train station in Montauban eight years ago instead of being taken care of by a nice family that they knew who just so happened to live in that town. Also, without them, we wouldn't have had fresh fennel from their garden, and a recipe with which to use said fennel for that meal. I made a braised fennel dish to accompany some leftover pork roast from the big family dinner. Every vegetable in that dish came from a backyard garden: fennel, tomatoes, peas, and I can't remember the rest. It was divine.

So now I am back in Dubai, and I think my junk food cravings have subsided. I don't even salivate over cupcakes right now, and I look forward to making a nice pot of minestrone soup tonight. Even my waist is starting to look normal again. However, I do regret not taking that bag of peanut butter flavored Chex Mix with me...

A Warm Place

2009-11-03T02:08:00.003-08:00

Isn't "the bosom of my family" an odd sort of phrase? I am not certain where I heard this phrase, but I kind of think it's scriptural or something. As odd as it is, "bosom" is supposed to be a place of warmth and comfort, figuratively and literally speaking. I had a friend at BYU (you know who you are) that would jokingly bring our heads to his chest while inviting us to "come to his bosom" if we had some sort of grievance. We would push him away in mock horror, but it was kind of nice. Long story short, I spent my vacation in the bosom of my family, but the first Saturday of my month of heaven was spent in the bosom of a huge portion of all my family, figuratively speaking of course.

My older sister had this idea to turn my trip home into a sort of family reunion. She always wants to plan those sorts of functions. If there is anything that belongs on my sister's headstone when she dies it should read "Here lies Amy Briscoe. All she ever wanted was a real Family Reunion." Or something to that effect. So she emailed everyone via Facebook and rallied the troops to get together in Seattle for something big and fun. Then she and her family decided that they couldn't make the trip. Then my brother dropped out. And a few others couldn't visit as well. So instead of a huge reunion-type thing with tugs-of-war and arts&crafts, we had a delicious meal and good company consisting of 1 grandma, 1 uncle, two aunts, 5 cousins, three cousin's spouses, 4 next-generation cousins, 1 dad, 1 mom, 1 sister and me.

It was an entirely lovely day.

My mom, the woman who gave me my skills in the kitchen, as well as a knack for worrying about what to make for dinner, went all out for the meal. She made the following: pork roast (which is naturally the first thing you eat when exiting an Arab country), mashed potatoes, rolls (bread is her specialty), pumpkin pie, and an cast-iron-skillet apple cake. My Uncle Bruce cooked green beans (from the garden) with bacon, and my Aunt Debi brought a salad with tasty citrus dressing (recipe please!). We like to eat in this family, and I must say that this hobby has been enhanced by some talented cooks and creative palates. Everything was so good as it always is.

Growing up, we had a lot of fabulous family meals around the holidays and such. When my immediate family moved away, one of the things I missed the most was being with all the aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. I truly looked forward to Saturday's dinner, and being able to catch up with everyone.

I had the most fun catching up with my cousin's 3-year-old daughter, Leah, who was born shortly after I left for New York. That girl has a lot of energy. Early in the afternoon, she entertained us by singing "If by chance you meet a frown" while marching in a circle. Soon the song got a little bit louder, and we noticed that she was actually singing:
If by chance you meet a smile
do not let it stay
quickly turn it upside-down
and frown that smile away.

All while marching in a circle.

Later, we played an "over and under" game. While sitting with my feet propped up on a chair, I encouraged Leah to crawl under my legs. Then she decided it would be fun to climb over my legs. She's three, but she's not little, and it really hurt when she dug her elbow into my thighs. At some point we were playing a fun game where she would pop up through my legs and hang for a bit. I would also swing her in that position. We totally bonded. Later, when I was having a bit of a nap on the floor, she told her step-cousins not to step on me because I was her cousin. I felt that I had succeeded in becoming a true part of her family, and not just that distant, wandering person whom she may know from pictures or stories.

While everyone shared their time and concern for me, I shared some fun Arabic stuff I brought for the family to try. I bought a whole bunch of roasted nuts, dates, cardamom gum and camel-milk chocolate. The chocolate had a slightly sour aftertaste, but it was actually pretty good. I also brought little bags of zaatar, a traditional herb mix, for everyone to try at home. Zaatar is a combo of thyme, marjoram, sumac, and sesame seeds. I've eaten it mostly on breads in Lebanon. My favorite is a manakish: flat bread sprinkled with halloumi cheese, cooked in a brick oven, and then a thin layer of zaatar mixed with a bit of olive oil. So good. Everyone needs to let me know the results of their zaatar-experiments. (P.S. dear readers, you can buy this stuff at specialty spice stores and at middle-eastern grocery stores.)

It was hard to say good-bye to everyone again at the end of the evening. But it is nice to make plans to come back.

It's Good to Set Goals

2009-10-31T09:38:00.004-07:00

The couch at my cousin Alicia's house wrapped me up in comfy warm goodness and (along with the help of two Tylenol PM) I slept through that first night on the opposite side of the world with zero problems. I wasn't even too groggy when I awoke. My one goal for that day was to stay awake as much as possible in order to get over the jet lag fast. I had read that exercise helps so I enlisted Alicia to take a walk with me in the morning. Alicia just so happens to live two blocks from one of my childhood homes, so it was a trip around the neighborhood filled with nostalgia. (She just so happens to live in the cul-de-sac that always gave out full-sized candy bars on Halloween.) I really appreciated the one-on-one time with her (especially since I missed her wedding).

The next trick up my jet-lag-reducing sleeve was a sufficient amount of caffeine. On the way to my uncle and aunt's house in Lynnwood, we stopped at an AM/PM gas station for some Diet Dr. Pepper. I grabbed the largest cup I could find, and began to fill up all 64 ounces, with just a few cubes of ice. At the cash register, the newbie cashier fumbled through some barcodes on a ring and asked if I was getting the gallon size. My eyes lit up "I didn't know that was an option!" I replied, but decided that 64 ounces was probably more than enough. At this point in the blog I would post the totally awesome picture of me enjoying my beverage, but I lost it. Maybe it is in my other computer...

At my uncle and aunt's house my mom got to work on a big family meal for the following day, but took a break when my uncle offered to take us to lunch at a Mexican restaurant. ("Us" included my mom, grandma, sister, and of course myself.) Dubai doesn't have too many Mexican restaurants, so getting food wrapped up in a tortilla was high on my vacation to-do list. I had a basic huge bean burrito, and although I am not certain I finished it all, it was certainly tasty. Thanks, Uncle Bruce!

My mum, ever the caretaker, decided to extend her cooking break by taking me clothes shopping. She had obviously read a previous post about my shabby attire and didn't want her daughter being looked down upon by foreigners, so off we went to Alderwood Mall. It wasn't too successful. While I am sure the mall's patrons have no problems with the stores (thus the reason they are still there), I didn't find anything that fit my style. I am neither a teen or a middle-aged woman, so I was kind of at a loss. Plus the mall has no Anthropologie or J.Crew. (Neither store is exactly bakery-friendly, but the clothes are pretty!) My mom found a nice top at Macy's for herself, though.

The afternoon progressed, and even though I started to feel fatigued I didn't take a nap. The Dr. Pepper was doing it's job. I think Grandma napped, however.

That evening I was treated to a Mariner's baseball game with my dad, sister, uncle, Alicia, her two stepsons, and a family friend. It was chilly, but I had a blast. We snacked on peanuts and arabic sweets, you know, all the traditional baseball fare. I sat next to Aidan, the youngest stepson, and I must say he was pretty charming, except when he tried to get me to drink out of the bottle of water that he backwashed into. The Mariner's played the Texas Rangers, who took an early lead, but the Mariners were able to catch up...at least until they gave up a nice handful of runs in the last inning. I was certain that the M's were aware that I was in town, so they were supposed to win. I guess the Ranger's didn't get the memo. Here, I would post some of the pictures I took of the game. Yep, they're lost as well. Awesome.

My eyelids were especially heavy on the ride back to Alicia's after the game. And with the aid of my favorite jet-lag-bedtime snack (erm, Tylenol PM), I slept soundly once again.

Why Does It Always Happen to Me?

2009-10-29T11:54:00.002-07:00

Let this be a warning to you: don't ever travel with me via aircraft.

If you have ever heard me talk about my airplane experiences, you would know that I seem to be cursed be severe travel bad luck: luggage that takes its own vacations, pilots who don't show up to work, missing ID, etc. Every once in a while I get pretty lucky where the only thing that goes wrong is that my computer falls to the ground at the security checkpoint.

The first leg of my journey went so flawlessly that I was optimistic that the whole trip would continue that way. I made it to the airport well in-time for my flight, and my luggage was even underweight. (I think that was a first!) I did have to go through a security check three times, for some reason. The seven-and-a-half hour flight to London didn't even feel that long, and I only snoozed for about a half hour. I did, however, learn that The Thomas Crown Affair was not an even remotely interesting movie, despite starring Steve McQueen.

After a three hour layover at Heathrow Airport a huge crowd gathered at gate B32 to board the 747 bound for Seattle. I took my seat next to a nice older couple that were very friendly and pleased that I was not traveling with a baby. The passengers sat and mingled, I took a brief nap and read a magazine, yet we were still on the ground. The pilot finally announced that there was a leak while trying to fuel the jumbo jet. For about two and a half hours they fixed the problem and then ran diagnostics in order to see if the leak had indeed been fixed.

When they were finally satisfied, we slowly rolled down the tarmac. While moving my fellow passengers and I heard a lot of commotion coming from the very back of the plane. We stalled at the runway until we were greeted with another announcement stating that the passengers in the back of the plane noticed that not only we were still leaking fuel, there also appeared to be some smoke spewing out of one of the engines. He continued to let us know that we would have to de-board and wait for a new plane to take us to Seattle. What he courteously did not tell us that it was either that or crash somewhere over Manchester.

The initial estimation for our delay was about six hours. We were handed food vouchers (that worked out quite nicely at Pret a Manger), and then we waited. I wandered around the large terminal 5, pondered buying a considerable amount of Cadbury, and wondered how my family would find out about the delay. I had zero access to phone numbers and email, so I hoped they wouldn't have to wait too long at SeaTac before figuring it out. Every once in a while I would meet up with my fellow passengers and we would chat. One nice lady assured me that if I fell asleep she would be sure to awake me once our gate was announced.

Around 9pm (6 hours after we were supposed to take off), were called to a brand new gate and we all hurriedly gathered to wait some more. While we did have a more spry 747 to take us over the pole, we didn't have a crew or (and now this is the kicker) a turnover agent. You know--the person who calls the rows to board the aircraft. Apparently not just anyone can do this job--even though I was more than willing to take a crack at it. It was rather frustrating waiting for that person while hearing flights around you get called into order, especially when they couldn't just hop over to our gate when they finished up. You know, six hours is plenty of time to find someone, one would think, but we still had to wait another 4 hours for ours.

So if you are doing any sort of tallying, that would be a whopping 10 hour delay. Pretty much we left Heathrow when we should have been arriving in Seattle. It was like taking two long flights...or rather three considering the first long flight from that morning.

I was tired when we finally touched down in Seattle--I had been awake for 31 hours with maybe a total of 4 hours of napping--but, oh, so happy to finally be in Seattle.

And, you know, not cindered somewhere over the English countryside.

I'm Back

2009-10-28T06:37:00.002-07:00

I just returned from a very fabulous vacation that took me to Seattle, Spokane, Phoenix, back to Spokane, back to Seattle, and finally to London.

My goal is to blog all about it in fun chapters that will highlight each city by the end of the week. However you need to be warned that I am very I am busy at work and shooting myself for getting on that plane back to Dubai.

Five more months...

Yeah, That's Why I Lived There

2009-09-29T22:26:00.002-07:00

I heard this new Jay-Z song at a store yesterday, and abso-freakin'-lutely loved it.

It reminded me of all the reasons why I wanted to live in New York. And despite the fact that I consider New York an "abusive lover" that treats its inhabitants poorly, I often think about running back for more NYC experiences.

I miss New York, and I am a little sad that I am not making a stop there while on vacation. I am going to London, though. So besides "London Calling" what other London songs can I listen to for that trip?

*sorry about the skips in the sound. I can only assume someone was editing swears.

Help me, Tim!

2009-09-21T00:22:00.003-07:00

I am getting some plans squared away for my upcoming vacation. I hear I get to see a baseball game, and hang in Arizona for a few days, but word on the street is that I am going to the dentist as well.

While trying to decide what to wear today, I thought of another super-cool vacation fun idea, and need some help getting it all situated:

Can someone please call Tim Gunn or Clinton and Stacey about getting me a new wardrobe? Most of my clothing items have a slight curry odor to them (thanks to the delicious Pakistani food made daily in my apartment). And I may or may not have a pair of pants whose backside has been bleached out by my toxic sweat. It is quite possible that I still wear said trousers in public because, really, I don' t have much to choose from.

It would be very entertaining for their viewers to watch me parade around in the grossest clothes known to man. With frizzy hair.

It's really no wonder the Emirati women give me weird looks.

Heaven Help Them

2009-09-12T10:25:00.004-07:00

One of the things I like best about church is that we all have a responsibility (a calling, as we call it). I am most particularly glad that I have a responsibility because it means that once a week I don't have to be at work for three/four hours. (It has been a looong time since I have had a day off, but who's counting?) In Beirut I was in charge of teaching the kid's Sunday School lessons, here in Dubai I get to teach the adults their Sunday...er Friday School lesson. This is an assignment I've had before, and I really love it.

The last time I taught, however, it was in front of a group of twenty-somethings with pretty similar educational backgrounds and interests. For the most part. Here, I teach people of varying ages, educations, and ethnic backgrounds. While I still get the point across for each gospel doctrine, I am not sure my teaching method works the best.

To best describe my delivery, I would say that I come from the Lorelei Gilmore School of Teaching. If you've never seen an episode of Gilmore Girls, it may be hard to imagine what this means. Let me 'splain. In the course of a Sunday School lesson, I will talk really fast, go off on a few random tangents, tell self-depricating stories, and add in a few well-timed hair tosses to get the male population's attention.

And let's not forget the pop culture references. It is quite possible I may have compared the priesthood to Harry Potter or Superman. And I may have compared and contrasted the death of Joseph Smith to Noel Gallagher's departure from Oasis.

It can be a little like this:

How else would you expect me to teach?

Falling Perfectly

2009-09-01T09:22:00.002-07:00

Today is the first day of September, and although the first day of fall is still twenty days away, one can't help but feel a little bit of autumn magic when the calendar finally reaches this month. Leave are eager to change colors, the air eases off the heat, and the sun hits the earth at just the right angle for a perfect autumn glow. I love this time of year. Well, I love this time of year when I live in a place that has this particular season. I hear Dubai does get cooler by the end of the month, but it's still beach weather year-round so I have a feeling I am going to truly miss the fall.

Fortunately the gods of autumn have smiled on me and I get to spend my annual vacation relishing the change of weather in some of my favorite places. While I have no set plans per se, (well except for the getting on and off airplanes part) here is a sampling of what I would like to have happen:

Hug kids, toddlers and babies...perhaps a few teenagers if they's allow it, tease a grandmother, eat crisp apples and warm cinnamon doughnuts, watch fish fly, and hear ferries' horns. I want to see mountain passes with a mix of deciduous and evergreen trees. I will run with Wild Things and catch up with network programming. I am going to laugh, reminisce, and pine away for a warmer wardrobe. I have a date to wrap myself in my green coat and don a scarf. And when the weather gets even colder I will drive on the other side of the road, visit a neighborhood chippy and devise a plot to return for a more permanent vacation.

And generally having the best 27 days ever.

It all begins on October 1st.

Wax On, Wax Off

2009-08-27T09:12:00.010-07:00

There are occasions when I wish I was still living in the United States. Say, for example, you are at home alone with nothing to do and all of a sudden an awesomely bad movie comes on and you want to blog about this event (because, as I mentioned, you are alone with no one to hear your commentary), but you can't because you haven't had internet at home for a month. This was the situation last night when I discovered Karate Kid II while flipping channels. So I will try to write a bit of what came to mind while watching it.

I so know what you're thinking, "Karate Kid II was not a bad film--it was awesome!" Well, let me remind you that you were probably still in elementary school when you last saw this film, so guess what, the film is not like a fine wine and definitely did not get better with age. However, the beauty of nostalgia is, the memories of this movie do have a tendency to outweigh the particularities of its cheesy film-making. So of course a flood of memories came racing to forefront of my mind:

We all practised the crane-style kick as exhibited during the first flick, and repeated, although not as successfully, in the second. Don't even deny it. We all karate-chopped our siblings. (I have a certain cousin in Texas who is definitely guilty of that. He probably doesn't read this, but he knows who he is.) We "painted the fence," "waxed on and waxed off" and when Karate Kid II came about, we added breathing-focused-hands-in-prayer-position-while-moving-them-up-and-forward, as shown below before Danialsan chops his way through six sheets of ice.

But through all our fond memories of sitting in time-out after practising our moves on siblings or smaller neighborhood children, we forget the flaws of the film. I could go on and on about the bad dialogue (I had a lot of "did he really just say that?" moments), stereotyping, and why I still think that when she was younger my sister looked like Ralph Macchio, I would like to focus a little on costuming. Although the movie took place in the 80's, it seems that Okinawa was stuck in the 1950's. Chozen (the enemy kid...didn't know that was his name until I watched the credits) was dressed like mafia-greaser, and there was a sock hop with poodle skirts. (Do you recall that little dance that Danielsan and the girl were invited to, by none other than B.D. Wong, might I add?) I guess every teenage girl in Okinawa owns a crinoline.
I am a little annoyed that I couldn't find an image of Danielsan and his wardrobe. I thought it strange that he wore that Asian bandana in public, along with his pink-checked flannel shirt and high-waisted, baggy "mom jeans." That was the best part. I am pretty sure the waistline covered his navel. I recall that some people made fun of our President's similar denim choice during a baseball game, but perhaps he was trying to channel a little Karate Kid to help him get that pitch over the plate. It would have looked a little ridiculous if he tried the hands-in-prayer-focus-breathy-thing, so the jeans were probably the best thing he could have done.

The jeans did not stop him from getting the girl, as they would today. Gentlemen, take note. I certainly recall my girly affection for the Peter Cetera hit "Glory of Love" written for the film. Last night, part of me wanted to sing along and then buy it off of iTunes. I refrained; instead I just laughed heartily, and wished my sister was sitting next to me so I could slap her knee in acknowledgment of the memories we have surrounding the song and the movie. I know she would do the same thing.

In the end Danielsan and Mr. Miyagi saved the girl, the town, their honor and the day, and I sat on my bed pretty pleased that I found such a good way to pass the evening. But while watching the credits, I noticed something a little disconcerting that broke my childhood heart: Karate Kid II wasn't even filmed in Okinawa; it was filmed in Hawaii. I felt so deceived in a way. Who knows, maybe if it was actually filmed in Japan, it may not have been so awesomely bad, and I wouldn't be able to make fun of it.

Excuses, excuses

2009-08-27T07:19:00.010-07:00

Sometimes we need to have a really good excuse in order to get something accomplished. For example when your pants feel a little loose, it's a good excuse to up your daily dessert quota. I recently had a really good excuse to play tourist in this fair city while I hosted a couple of friends who were here for brief visits. It was a huge blessing in so many ways: 1) even with my few church friends it is so easy to feel lonely and isolated and I needed to have friends and be a friend; and 2) I actually got to leave work early and play a little. Thanks to the added benefit of the use of Chef Aaron's car I got to drive around and know Dubai a whole lot better. For example, I can probably get to the airport with my eyes closed. Although I don't really recommend it because there are thousands of crazy drivers and one must be alert and aggressive. Thanks to a few driving adventures in the NYC I was fully prepared to honk, cut people off and gesture all at the same time.

With my first guest, Carlynne, I got to do the most exploring. She was game for anything, so I got to pick out our destinations:

Like Cafe Blanc, a chic-looking Lebanese restaurant in Dubai Mall. We ate hommous, pita, tabbouleh, kebbeh, and cleansed our palates with rose water tea in some fancy cups (see above). Lebanese food is the best Arabic food--don't let anyone convince you otherwise. I'm not saying that because of any bias, anyone here will tell you that.

The Dubai Mall is the largest mall in the world, and it is filled with some pretty fancy stores like Hermes and Jimmy Choo. I think there is a Gap, but it is tucked away in a far-to-reach corner. Like most largest-in-the-world shopping centers, Dubai Mall has other attractions like spectacular fountains, an ice-skating rink, amusement parks, and also has a pretty large aquarium (with a shark tank). Since I've been to this particular mall a few times on my own, I figured that having a guest meant that I needed to seek out a new place to see fish. Like the Atlantis Hotel on the Palm Jumeirah. The hotel and its aquarium tried to replicate what the lost city of Atlantis might be like--well at least what it might be like the minds of architects, engineers and designers. It was fancy and interesting.

While this particular venue perhaps wasn't as scientifically informative as, say, the Seattle Aquarium, it did have really large fish that liked to pose for the camera. Seriously, this one saw my camera and struck that menacing pose. This aquarium doesn't really need to be informative, I guess, when it is housed in a pretty spectacular hotel

on a pretty spectacularly man-made island the shape of a palm tree. Seriously, google it.

While Carlynne was here, the sun wasn't. Some dust storm in Saudi caused us to have murky overcast weather. It was not an excuse, to dampen our fun. So off we went to see a movie at the Gold Class Cinema. I've already blogged about sitting in recliners and being waited on while watching a movie, so you know it is an activity worth repeating. Dubai has a few other destinations worth repeating, like the Madinat Jumeirah. I went to the Madinat for the Keane concert in July, but I didn't explore the souks and canals because that obviously wasn't the purpose of the visit. Thanks to guests, I had an excuse to return. This is a newer resort area with lovely hotels, lots of restaurants, and a souk full of regional antiques and souvenirs. Despite the flagrant newness, the area is beautiful and incredibly peaceful. It also has impressive views of the Burj al Arab, the world's only 7-star hotel. (That would be the modern, pointy thing in the image below.)

Carlynne was not the only guest I took the Madinat, my former roommate Carrie was here for an eight-hour layover and we went to one of the bars for their tasty mocktails. (Due to the Arabic tradition of teetotal-ling, mocktails are served everywhere. I'm taking notes for my next mocktail party...when I get out and explore again.) Carrie's layover began at around 11pm and ended at 7am, so her visit was filled with nightlife-esque activities. We started at the Al Reef Lebanese 24-hour bakery for flat bread with cheese and/or zaatar, baklava, and flirting with attractive German fellows sitting by themselves. (Oh yes, we know how to have a good time.) Then we went in search of mocktails in fancy faux-ancient Arabic settings where we talked, giggled, reminisced and caught up over fruity beverages. Then we had to take naps. Her visit was a terribly good excuse to stay up all hours of the night and then leave work early the next day to "recuperate."
But there is still so much to do and see like dune bashing on a desert safari, camel races, a cricket match, waterparks... Some of y'all will just have to come out and visit me so I can do some of these things. No excuses...

I Was Really Hoping to Live by the Foot of that Mountain

2009-08-03T08:35:00.002-07:00

So you watched the video clip and went straight to iTunes to buy a copy of that song, only to find out that iTunes doesn't carry it (along with a majority of the last 25 years of A-ha music). That was the tragedy I met up with today. So after spending a relatively large portion of my paperwork time watching/listening to videos on youtube I came up with a solution to this musical predicament. Since I know you were all planning on getting this song, I will pass along the info. You can purchase and download the album from their Web site. You will have to buy the whole album (but it's worth it) and then you will have to transfer the files to iTunes (where they will not let you edit information apparently or maybe I just terribly iTunes inept). But when it costs you 6.45 Euros, it sure looks like a pretty good deal.

Ok. That's enough A-ha for the moment. I swear, my next post will have pictures of Dubai in it!

Nostalgic

2009-08-02T05:46:00.003-07:00

There are only two things I remember from Jessica Ketteridge's 10th birthday party:

1) I gave her a "My Little Pony" figurine that she could paint. Everyone else gave her more "tween" type items, although I doubt that the "tween" market was as big then as it is now. Nonetheless Tiger Beat did exist and I imagine that was the inspiration for her other, more trendy gifts. Looking back, I am not surprised she ended our friendship soon thereafter.

2) Instead of watching any movies, we watched the Grammy's award show that her parents had recorded earlier in the week. This was the mid-80's, and we were all excited to catch the performance of one band in particular, A-ha. Thanks to the fully-functioning "stop," "rewind" and "play" buttons, we watched the "Take on Me" performance innumerable times, swooning and giggling as only 9 and 10 year-olds can.

I was fortunate to have an older sister who had in her possession a copy of the tape from which the aforementioned song came. It was the first track on side "A" and pretty much the only song that I remember listening to. Maybe once in a while we got tired of hitting the rewind button and actually listened to the whole cassette. I think there was a song on the other side that was pretty decent; it was just too much work to look for it when we got tired of "Take on Me." Soon other bands entered the American airwaves, and we (my sister and I), and pretty much the general American population forgot to look for other songs that this hit 80's band from Norway might have recorded.

Fast forward to 2009, and now I live in Dubai, and I listen to a radio station that likes to insert a few obscure songs/groups into their typical line-up of hits. I appreciate that this station will forgo playing the same obnoxiously ubiquitous Lady Gaga for something better, although not exactly Top-40. One day they played a song that I really, really liked, and to my surprise it was a new song from A-ha. Since I don't know if this song has reached the North American continent, I thought I'd share it. Just in case you, like me, forgot to look for new A-ha songs post-"Take on Me."

Of course I am a little miffed that now I have 20 years of A-ha music that I need to catch up on.

My July Habit

2009-07-24T06:50:00.007-07:00

At the end of June I acquired a free T.V, and gift that resolved my inner debate on whether or not I should purchase one. Considering it would take a kind benefactor to buy one, I was quite pleased that I found a benefactor who was willing to give me one. For free. (This lady was leaving Dubai for good, and I received a whole bunch of free stuff as well. Yeah!) The television set also came with a DVD player and I was content enough to sit at home watching all the DVDs I brought from the states (or borrow the ones available for rent at my gym--that's right my gym where I exercise), but my landlord thought this was not good enough and arranged for me to get a box that would hook up to the satellite dish.

I wasn't too sure I wanted it. First of all, the satellite box-thingy was not free, plus I could easily see myself flipping channels for hours on end in the evening--not writing the blog, not reading good literature, and not going to bed on time. But the Tour de France was quick approaching, so I consented.

When the Tour began on July 4th, when you all were celebrating Independence Day with barbecues and ice cream, I had to go online to read the first stage--as it unfolded--on velonews.com. It wasn't the ideal way to watch my favorite sporting event, but better than nothing. I even figured I would fare quite well without a satellite connection after all.

Luckily for me, my landlord came through, and one evening a Pakistani gentleman not only hooked up my box, but he also found all the English language channels and moved them up to the front of the dial--as well as including a French channel for me--and deleted the surprisingly large number of porn channels. (It was astonishing since the country blocks Web sites like Flicker and other relatively harmless sites because there may be innapropriate images, yet they had not managed to get rid of the actual harmful content on the satellite. I guess that's harder to block...).

The very next day I was watching the Tour in French, and that day's stage was a mighty thrilling one to watch. Cervelo Test Team's Heinrich Haussler was in a solo breakway for a large portion on that rainy, hilly stage, which he was able to win by a large margin. Actually being able to see his face holding back victory tears as he crossed the finish line nearly made me well up with joy for him. Reading does not make up for watching moments like this.

I am pretty sure there are only about two of you who care about my Tour fascination, but I will write a little bit about this year's Tour anyway.

1. This year I officially stopped worshipping at the Church of Lance. Oh sure, I am very grateful to him for helping me love professional cycling, and his organization does wonderful things for cancer patients, but he's been gone from the peloton for a while and I met other cyclists that I prefer. And other teams with a lot less drama...

2. I got very annoyed with the goings on at Team Astana. Everyday Velo News was full of the latest "who's the team leader?" drama. First it's Alberto Contador, next its Lance Armstrong, then it's whoever is strongest. And then when the strongest contender (not Lance) exerted himself, it was all about that awful rogue Contador. Enough already! Go Bradley Wiggins! Go Schleck Brothers! Go anyone else!

3. The Schleck Brothers, Team Saxo Bank's powerful duo, were very entertaining to follow on the last week's mountain stages. I loved how they worked together. Sadly, they weren't strong enough to topple Contador, but Andy Schleck did get 2nd place and the white jersey (best young rider). He'll win the Tour soon.

4. Garmin-Slipstream is not responsible for George Hincapie not getting the yellow jersey. This was a seriously lame piece of drama. Hincapie misses out on the yellow jersey by five seconds and everyone wants to blame Garmin because they moved up to the front of the peloton. So what. The only reason it was such a big deal is because it happened to George Hincapie. If someone else missed it by five seconds, the media would have said "Oh well, tough loss, better luck tomorrow." But no, since it was Lance's supposed "best bud in the peloton" it became a major inconsequential issue.

5. Fabian Cancellara proved once and again that he is an awesome cyclist. He can time trial, he rides in the breakaways, and he can help get his fellow teammates (the Schleck's) up and over the mountains. And he's not ugly.

That's it. Now what am I going to do with my time?

This Is How I Make the Big Bucks...or Just the Bucks

2009-07-15T06:17:00.008-07:00

I thought I'd share some photos of cakes that I've done. The one above was a going-away cake for a guy that was a total Metalhead. It had the looongest inscription I had ever written. It practically covered the top of this 12" red velvet cake. I drew a chain border on the bottom and added spikes to complete the heavy metal look. I am really glad the spikes worked out. Our frosting has a tendency to get a soupy the longer I work with it. Thanks to a whole bunch of powdered sugar, the spikes worked!

I didn't want to do this design, but the customer insisted. Since I wasn't at the bakery to put my foot down, I got stuck with it. Generally I try to avoid drawing people on cakes. Cartoons, yes. People, no. I searched for a long time online to find a really cartoonish girl with a shopping bag that could be pulled off without massacring the face. I found an all-black sillhoete, and improvised. I was happy with the results, but at the same time totally frustrated. Now I can't tell people "no" when they want a person on the cake.

This cake was for the birthday of one of Dubai's gossipy magazines. I hate icing rectangle cakes.

The birthday girl brought in a picture of this beach/sea-themed cake. I tried to follow her drawing exactly. I have done better aquarium-type cakes. I just don't have a picture of said cake.

I was worried about this one as well, because the lady who ordered it would not listen to me. I had to tell her five times that we didn't use marzipan, fondant, or airbrushes. Luckily she liked it!

Here's the top view of the map I made.

This little face belongs to Princess Lillifee. Yeah, I haven't heard of her either. I think she's a Central European cartoon character or something. This was also rather nervewracking because 1) it's a face and 2) all I had to go on was a 1" square image. Normally when I draw on cakes, I make a stencil and trace the image on the cake because I don't draw with pencils particularly well, and buttercream poses more of a challenge. This character was a series of stencils that when laid on top of eachother made the face of Princess Lillifee. I was quite pleased with myself over this one. And it marks the first time the customer called me to tell me how much she like it.

Anyway, that's pretty much what I do. Along with icing cupcakes, ordering supplies, tracking inventory...I don't have pictures of the rest of my tasks.

Wanted: One Kind Benefactor

2009-07-04T02:12:00.004-07:00

Chef Aaron downloaded some new music that I want (Diane Birch), and he is more than willing to burn me a copy of her album, except there is one small little problem: my computer's disc drive refuses to open. I think this happened when my computer slid and fell off of the security table of the airport in Beirut. Sadly, the busted disc drive is just one of the many problems my computer is having: it gets tired easily and will just shut down mid-use; it doesn't want to play any form of media found via the world-wide web; and I can't access any document I have saved in Microsoft Word or Adobe (all of my recipes). So, I think it is time to get a new one.

However, I can't really afford a new computer, especially since I would really, really, really like to get a MacBook Pro. I am trying to save as much money as possible, but considering I still have to eat and buy toilet paper, as well as save for any future life endeavors, this whole saving extra money thing isn't going as quickly as I would prefer. I may have enough saved in about 5 years. By my calculations, that's about 4 years and 3 months too late.

So in times like these I think back to a nice book I read I've read a few times: Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster. For those of you unfamiliar with the book, it's pretty much a series of fictional letters sent by an orphan to the kind benefactor who paid for her to go to school. Wouldn't it be nice for some mysterious person to provide for these material wants that I kinda would like to have. Or to pay my student loan. Are there any kind benefactors out there who could spare a few dollars for my technology fund?

If you've had a chance to read Daddy-Long-Legs you will recall that the book's heroine ended up marrying her benefactor. I am not looking for that. Just money for the computer (and possibly a new cell phone, which also doesn't work too well) would be plenty. However, if he just so happens to be in his 30's, tall, dark hair, fair-skinned, devlishly blue eyes, and a British accent...well, that would be another story.

They Come From a Land Down Under

2009-06-28T02:59:00.002-07:00

Not only does she drive me to church, my home teacher's wife Oriwa (a lovely part-Maori lady) has also helped lift me out of my music rut. I love people who seek after good music. We bonded a bit over The Arcade Fire, and have been sharing music back and forth. I introduced her to Ryan Adams, Travis, and Camera Obscura. She is the messenger that delivered that fabulous Ben Taylor song below, along with several gems from her native New Zealand. All the musicians on her list were fabulous. But it was the song below that I couldn't get out of my head (along with the Ben Taylor song). I bought the whole album.

Charming, eh? The whole album is full of great songs.

Now, here's a little something for fans of Bret from Flight of the Conchords:

Any more great tunes from NZ, and my next stop on this crazy trip around the world just may be in Auckland. (No, I am NOT hinting at any changes in my address. It's purely dreamy speculation, influenced by good tunes. The same way FNL leads me to Texas and 3-week cycling races push me to France.)

This Would be Nice

2009-06-23T06:43:00.002-07:00

Should I ever find myself in a situation where I am wearing a white dress and dancing with a handsome fellow that I just so happened to have married a couple hours prior to us dancing while I am wearing said dress, I would like it if we could be dancing to this little ditty:

This one would be nice too:

Or maybe I'll just listen to those songs on repeat for a really long time until they are no longer endlessly swimming in my head. Which right now, I kinda hope never happens.

Grocery Store Addendum

2009-06-11T20:33:00.002-07:00

Last night I actually ventured in to the "Not For Muslims" room at the grocery store in order to buy pork tenderloin for an upcoming church activity. I probably won't go back. Even though that section did carry pork tenderloin, bacon, and pork n' beans, that section also had piggy tails and ears, dried squid rings, luncheon meat in a can, and cockroaches. The cockroaches weren't packaged as a food item. They roamed around rather freely. I may want to get a new grocery store.

Martha, Please Help!

2009-06-10T10:25:00.007-07:00

I have a strange hobby--one that should have been mentioned in my birthday "about me" post--I like to go to grocery stores. I love looking at all the products and trying new things. Naturally, being in a foreign country, the first place I want to go is a grocery store. It satisfies my curiosity about what other cultures eat, but, in a completely OCD fashion, it helps me plan what I am going to buy fill my stomach. I'm kind of a picky eater, and I just need to know that I will find the foods I like to eat.

I live right on top of a highly patronized grocery store. My neighborhood is rather densely populated, and I think about half of the neighborhood is inside at any given time. Plus it has a huge "Not For Muslims" section, meaning a huge, separate room filled with foodstuffs that contain pork or are not halal. (Halal, for lack of a better description is kind of like Kosher for Muslims. I believe it has to do with a way that meat is killed.) Alot of families at church go to this store for the pork. Most of the customers are not Arab, but are Filippino, Pakistani, Sri Lankan, or Indian. Thus most of the products cater to them. While I have been able to find recognizable products like Doritos, Listerine, Vitasoy, and Cadbury, the vast majority of the food items are strange and curious.

The most curious part of the grocery store is the produce section. The UAE, being a dessert, does not produce very much--mostly dates. So pretty much everything else gets shipped in from all over Southeast Asia, Africa, Australia and the U.S. My basic produce needs are pretty well taken care of: apples, red peppers (or capsicum depending on where you are from), carrots, bananas, oranges, tomatoes (although I can rarely find one that is not wormy), and green beans. The rest of the place is stocked with crazy stuff that I have absolutely no idea how to use.

So dear readers, if you know what the following plants are and how to eat them, please send a recipe my way:

The item on the right is a banana blossom, I believe. Or a fancy artichoke.

Umm. I've actually eaten this. It's bitter.

No clue here.

And now a couple of oddities from other parts of the store:

Yummy dehydrated fish. Kidding on that yummy part.

Prawn crackers? Really? I'll pass.

I neglected to get a picture of the rice aisle, which is truly a sight to behold. I really don't think Americans (especially the WASPy ones) can conceptualize the vast amounts of rice varieties. And FYI to the health conscious: the store does not carry a single brown rice variety. (I actually found some at the more-expensive-than-Whole Foods health food store.) It's pretty amazing. And it goes to show that I am not in Kansas anymore. Or in any other state in the U.S. 'Cause I'm not from Kansas.

P.S. I have tried (and loved): mangosteens, jack fruit, and jasmine flavored water.

2009-06-05T07:04:00.003-07:00

Admitting the Truth

I spent a few days this week getting some important immigration stuff done so I can be a full-fledged legal working resident of the United Arab Emirates. Paperwork had been sent in, passport-sized photos taken, and now it was time to visit the clinic for medical testing. Chef Aaron informed me that since I was a girl, it was a very quick and pain-free process--aside from the needle jabs and all--and I should be done in less than an hour. The process for guys takes a bit longer. Not because they have more testing, since there are so many male foreign workers, they just have longer lines to stand in.

Arturo, one of our new bakers, and I hopped in a cab Monday morning and set off for the clinic with mild apprehension. Not necessarily for fear of needles...it's just that if the clinicians find something they don't like--hepatitis, for example--we would be on the next flight out of town. This happened to Arturo's brother. (Funny story--after said brother received further testing in the Philippines, it turns out he doesn't have hepatitis.) Anywhoo, we arrived and saw a massive line of Middle Eastern and Southeast Asian men waiting to get their blood drawn. I warned Arturo that this may take awhile and asked if he wanted to borrow a book. He declined, so I gave him cab fare for the ride home and said that I was not about to wait for him.

My only line was to get the bar-coded papers that I would take to each section of the clinic corresponding with the tests I needed: x-ray and blood. Papers in hand, I was ready to get poked and prodded. I was immediately directed to room #6: urine, spittle, and stool sampling. Peeing in a cup is pretty standard procedure world-wide and I was glad that I pre-hydrated. I handed the testers my papers, and he pointed to some plastic cups and said one word: "Stool."

Surely with his thick accent, he actually said "urine." Just to verify I queried, "Excuse me?"

"Stool." I began to panic. One little thing about me (something that I did not mention in my birthday post) is that I don't really like to admit that I have bodily functions. Peeing yes, that seems normal and not entirely icky, but I don't really like to admit to the others (feminine issues as well) unless we are really close, tight friends. Seriously, it took a very long time (I think my college years) until I was actually able to admit to girls that I did in fact get a period. So, in this clinic, not only did I have to admit to this complete (and male) stranger that I indeed did have bowel movements, I also had to admit that they didn't come very regularly and I couldn't just produce the requested sample at will.

Plus, Chef Aaron never warned me about this. Immediately I sent a text message hoping there would magically be some way of getting out of this situation. And there should have been. My documents only requested blood and chest X-rays. I would have gladly given urine as an additional measure, but they were not getting my pooh. Especially not that day. I argued that point with the worker, and he stated that since I was a food worker I had to have the test. I further pointed out that none of my coworkers were subjected to this form of cruelty, but he just shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the cheap plastic cups and told me to come back another day. My thoughts: "how 'bout I just get on a plane and never come back." For the record, I have given such a sample before on my mission. But when one may have parasites, it kinda comes with the territory. I don't have parasites--I think--so that precludes me, right?

I begrudgingly took a plastic cup (please note that the clinic didn't offer any shovel-type instrument with which to retrieve those samples. Another reason to reject this test.) and off I went to the other tests. I had my chest X-rayed. Interesting story as well. There were posters all over the place warning about protecting unborn babies against the dangers of X-ray radiation, so I was fully awaiting the question, "Are you pregnant?" and "Are you sure?" (oh am I ever). Instead the technician asked, "Are you married?" I assumed he wasn't going to ask me out so I felt comfortable saying that I was single, and then awaited the follow-up "are you pregnant" questions, but he never asked. I thought about suggesting that he should continue with that type of questioning because, sadly, in Western culture the lack of a spouse is not exactly an indicator of a pregnancy-free life, but thought I should just keep quiet in light of my pooh-test arguments.

Next stop: the blood test. The needles gave every appearance of being sterile, but although the lady holding them gave every appearance of being able to find a vein, she didn't do a very bang up job. No, I take that back. She did do a bang up job because I have some nice bruises on my arm from her attempts to find a vein. My veins are not too hard to find. I generally don't watch the needle go in, but in sort of a vampirish way, I like to watch the blood. However, I saw no blood. I did see a needle go back and forth and around in circles trying to find a vein. Trying not to panic, and trying not to scare other patients with the look of horror on my face, I calmly suggested the other arm. She did, and instead of gently sliding the needle in, she jabbed hard. I could not mask my face at that moment, and apologized to the nice Filippino lady watching the scene. I tried to tell her it didn't really hurt. I think she knew I was lying. Fortunately the needle-lady didn't have to dig too hard to finally produce some blood.

I left the clinic knowing I had to go back again. Chef Aaron had a good laugh at my expense for not being able to go #2 at the clinic. I have to admit, it is rather humorous and embarrassing all at the same time. Also problematic, as it turns out. The following day I had to attend a class, and the day after was Chef's day off. I didn't have time to go on any other day. Chef suggested I take my cup to the class and just swing by the clinic afterwards--if I was able to produce a sample, that is. I really didn't like that idea. Who wants to carry their own feces around with them, especially to a class on food hygiene? The irony of the situation was a bit hilarous, and Chef and I joked about how to hide my sample. He suggested a bag from our bakery, with all of our company branding. I was pretty sure our boss would not approve. Then I pointed out a good-sized box. I could surprise the clinic with a generous sample. Other speculated recepticles: ziplock bag and/or Big Gulp cup. The best part of the conversation: Chef Aaron was holding a Giant Cupcake cake mold to his chest in way that made him look like he had breasts--one of which resembling Madonna's pointy Gualtier outfit. I had tears streaming from my eyes from looking at him like that.

The following morning I did indeed have to go--right before it was time to leave for my class. Not really convenient, eh? I complained to Chef Aaron, and he suggested I get my sample and leave it in the office, away from food, obviously, and go to the clinic afterwards. I did, and informed the Chef where my sample was. As I informed him, "I don't want to lose my pooh." At this point all barriers of embarrassment about human functions were down since all my coworkers were aware of my little dilemma. And I was getting asked how my sample was coming. On the ride to our class, I informed one barista, Ivy, that my sample was complete and that I would be taking it to the clinic afterwards. "But Chef," she began, "the clinic closes at four, and we won't be back until five. Your stool will be no good." Of course. Why would this go smoothly? I prayed that our class would end quickly, but in the end I learned that the clinic closed at two. My attempts at getting the worst test done were useless. I was stuck in class on hygiene, and oh so ironically my pooh was at the bakery becoming entirely useless. I got back from the class, asked chef to "hand me my pooh" so I could throw it away, and went home to have another cup of laxative tea. (It's the only way I'm regular.)

The next day I went to the clinic provide my sample there. I remembered to grab a disposible spoon. I went to room #6 and the fellow working there remembered me. Not sure how I felt about that. He could have remembered me because I was one of the rare white faces in a sea of tan ones...or it could be because I was the first person he ever saw freak out over the inability to have bowel movements on command, and share the results with others. Thanks to some good tea, and a lot of prayers, my mission was accomplished. (Yes indeed. God does hear and answer all kinds of prayers.) I still don't know yet if I am parasite free, but I seriously better have a few bugs to merit going through that process.

Of course if I did, then I would have to go through the whole process again. Ick.

2009-05-31T09:21:00.003-07:00

Clifford's Gonna Be a Thug

Back in the kitchen (at work), we listen to a lot of music to help the day move along quickly. The Filippinos we work with tend to reach the radio/iPod docking station before anyone else, and they obviously pick the music with which to start our day. I really wish I was the fastest person to the radio, but even if I was they would change the music the minute I take a nature break. We mostly listen to Jason's iPod, and I must say he has quite the range of music, however there is only a small handful of songs* that I actually want to listen to. He has a lot of Avril Lavigne, adult contempory, American Idol, the Tarzan soundtrack.... When we go on break so our dishawasher can scrub the floor, he changes the music to Josh Groban and other super sappy love songs. (He even has one CD that has snippets of the cheesiest of love songs, i.e the Titanic theme, "Our Precious Love"... tethered together with the same pop-synthesized percussion.) By eleven in the morning all that cliched, cheesy, gobbledy-gook makes me want to destroy the hearing mechanisms in my ear.

But I am not quite sure how to go about that process, so there is only one thing to do: purge the schmaltz-fest with something else. Since I know my music is not mainstream enough for their tastes, I reach for Chef Aaron's iPod and head straight for the rap section. After a few bars of anything from Eminem or Tupac I calm right down and enjoy my work a whole lot more. Interesting, eh?

Isn't it also interesting that the only girl in the bakery pleads for music that is at times offensive? Chef Aaron teased me this morning saying that with their music the guys in the bakery are trying to teach me that "women have feelings and are not objects. And you respond with, 'I gotta slap me some $#*#&$ and #($*#.'" (Insert deragotive vocabulary here...unless you don't what I mean because you don't listen to rap music.)

It is further interesting because I for the most part cannot stand rap music. For some reason I just really, really, really need to listen to it after hearing to the same Josh Groban songs. All. Morning. Long.

* Jason has a good deal of Journey. And I like listening to that.

2009-05-23T10:13:00.007-07:00

Just Another Unsatisfied Customer

As many of you very well know, I decided to leave the corporate world and work in a bakery because I often had thoughts about owning my own little bakeshop. I have begun to reconsider this plan. As hesitant as I am to announce that yet again I have come up with a new career path, I just want you all to know I have very valid reasons for reconsidering this move.

1. I miss weekends, 8-hour workdays, and working 5 days a week. I am tired-nay-exhausted, and I want my life back. I just don't know how long I can keep up my current level of "dedication."

2. I'm not a schmoozer. My boss Dana is always chatting away with the press and telling everyone about the bakery. I'm not forward enough to talk to strangers and tell them about how awesome my stuff is. (I guess that's what PR is for--hmmm. I could at least write my own press releases.)

3. I have HORRIBLE, terrible, beyond shabby customer service skills. In my world, the customer is hardly right. They are annoying, picky, and generally have zero creativity. (If I have to write a red inscription on another pink cake...).

Here's a story to illustrate how I deal with horrible customers:

We have customers from a certain ethnic group (not local Emirati) who feel they can get something for nothing. I've not had much contact with said ladies since Chef Aaron usually goes to speak with them about their issues. But when he took a little trip to New York, I had to deal with probably the worst customer I have ever had to talk to.

Early in the week I received an email stating thus:
"Request you to please confirm at the earliest if this cake can be made. (2 kgs)
Please do not put the picture on the cake - do let me know if you cannot draw some parts of the t-shirt."

And the sender posted a picture of a rather cool polo shirt that made me a little nervous. (posted above.) I was also a little confused by the email. I am not going to even pretend to know what size a 2 kg cake is. She also gave zero info about what flavor she wanted, how many people to serve...or what parts of the t-shirt she actually wanted on the cake. I shot off a quick email, and waited for a response. She never sent one so I called her. We discussed varying sizes and flavors, and she asked if we photocopy pictures for cake tops (we do not), and finally decided that she wanted a quarter-sheet chocolate cake with the ponies, stripe and #3. However, she was not willing to pay the minimum AED 450 for the cake. (I warned her that with the decoration, it would end up being around AED 550. She folded; too rich for her blood.

Two days later she calls back because no one else is willing to take the order. So we went back to the nitty-gritty of the order. She verified again that we don't do photocopies, and asked if the cake would have cake sleeves and a collar. I informed her that we do not do shaped cakes just circles or rectangles. She said that was fine, but wanted to again verify that we could do the ponies, stripe and number. Yes, of course. We settled on colors, flavors, and then the price. I was feeling so excited about the cake, and that added a layer of unnatural generosity on my part, I only charged her the minimum for decoration and gave her a 10% discount, so AED 405 ($110).

Here's my interpretation of what she wanted:

Close up of the pony sillhouete.

The full cake. I am not too proud of the three. It is a little tilted. I should have used a stencil to make it straighter. (P.S. Don't admire my drawing skills too much. I created a stencil for the polo scene.)

A while after I sent the cake off with our delivery driver, I received a phone call from a very angry customer. It was the cake-lady and she was p-i-s-s-e-d. Apparently this is not what she wanted. She wanted me to draw the entire t-shirt.

Really? She exclaimed that she told me to draw the t-shirt and that she wouldn't pay AED 450 for something she didn't ask for. I don't like being yelled at by a complete stranger over something that I worked pretty hard on, so immediately I got a little crabby at her. I re-read her email--NOWHERE does it state that she wants the t-shirt on the cake. Even in our phone conversation, after telling her that we don't do shaped cakes, she never said draw the entire t-shirt. She was always focused on the ponies, stripe and number.

After explaining that to her, she continued to yell. What did I do. I raised my voice right back at the ______ (insert favorite expletive for obnoxious females here). Yeah, so in most customer service oriented businesses, it is not a good idea to raise your voice at a customer. Even if she was TOTALLY and COMPLETELY in the wrong. I remembered that standard operating procedure, and continued to talk to her with my inside voice, albeit a curt, and snippy inside voice. I explained that it was a miscommunication on both sides (which she disagreed with whole-heartedly) and if I understood her instructions there was no way I would have only charged AED 450. With all those elements, I could easily charge AED 550 ($150). She was even more upset about that and ranted about going to Mr. Baker and getting a 5 kg cake for AED 300.
I nearly suggested that she go to Mr. Baker instead, but I stayed quiet.

Now she didn't want the cake, and what was I going to do about it. I said, "If you don't want the cake, send it back." (Code for: you don't deserve that cake _____ (alternate defamatory word)!! Go to #*$#*& and #$#$*&# off!) I had to use code because if I actually said those things to her, she could have had me put in jail for as long as she wanted. Seriously.

In a huff, she hung up the phone and the disappointed cake made a sad journey back to the bakery. We scraped off the message in hopes that someone would buy it, but it didn't happen.

After my unproductive conversation with that lady, and a minor meltdown, I was able to clear my head a little and I finally realized what she really wanted me to do. She was simply trying to get another discount from me. This has happened on other occasions when other members of that certain ethnic group leave out a detail or two about their overly-designed cake plans just so they can complain and request a discount to counter the "shoddy" craftmanship. I was a little upset that I could have easily knocked a few dirhams off the price to avoid the whole scene. However, I was also pretty pleased that I didn't give in to evil plot. Her plan didn't work; she has no cake for the birthday party. Look who's crying now _____ (you know what to add).

It is true, I made a bit of a mistake on the order. I should have asked more questions about the design. But seriously, is the cake so bad that I need to turn myself into the CakeWreck blog?

I didn't think so.

2009-05-11T06:24:00.002-07:00

This May or May Not Come as a Surprise

A while back I was "tagged" on Facebook for one of those "25 Things About Me" which are always fun, but sometimes requires a bit of thought. My cousin usually does something similar on her birthday, so I thought I'd take a page out of her book and do the same. Thus not limiting this exercise to 25, but I'll favor you with 8 extra items for a grand total of 33. This may be a bit of a challenge as I haven't even started to brainstorm which things I want to share. Some things may be well-known traits, but I hope to surprise a few of you as well.

1. I like clothes. I like to look at them in stores and magazines and imagine all the wonderful outfit combinations I can make, and what I would look like if I had those pieces. However when I try them on I think I look awful, so I have a pretty basic wardrobe.

2.I used to draw clothes on my paper margines in elementary school. I don't sew very well. I think that is because I shunned the hobby after being teased so much in junior high for wearing home-sewn clothes. Now I wish I was a better seamstress.

3. I don't like crowded spaces. When the bakery gets filled with customers I tend to feel really stressed out. How I managed New York, I will never know. Of course, I did avoid most of the tourist-faves.

4. Once I made a list of things that I liked/made me happy. Most of the things on the list were food items. I.e. Meyer lemons, avocados, pie, fish tacos... I think I managed to think of other things like flannel sheets and France, but it does make me a tad concerned over my relationship with food.

5. I tend to feel homesick for locations that are not always my home. This happens at telling moments too. I long for Texas while watching Friday Night Lights, Spokane during Thanksgiving, France during the Tour de France, and right now I would do anything to be in Italy while I keep up with the Giro d'Italia. I also tend to be England-sick for the rest of the time.

6.This is harder than I thought.

7. This is probably hard because I generally have a hard time expressing my feelings about people. I think my sister is not the only one with Asperger's in the family...

8. I have really inspiring friends and family. I am always in awe of their talents, whether it be writing, sewing, crafting, mothering, gardening, teaching. So many people that I want to be like when I grow up. I would mention names but that goes beyond my emotion comfort level. Let's just hope you know who you are.

9. I was going to dedicate a blog entry about this one--and maybe I still will. I've been thinking that this whole "what I want to be when I grow up" thing has nothing to do with a job, and more about a way of life. I'm wondering if I am headed in the right direction. Yep, a blog entry would be better for this thought.

10. I speak Spanish and French. However, I cannot seem to manage Arabic or Tagolog (the language of the rest of the staff here.)

11.Have I mentioned that I love professional cycling? It's an odd thing for a girl without a bike of her own to like, but I do. I think the whole thing is fascinating.

12. I like being quirky. Maybe that explains the cycling-love.

13. I am, shall we say...opinionated. Some people maybe label my opinions as snobiness. I have no problems being a little particular about what I read, watch, listen to and eat. This is my body and spirit, after all.

14. I am opinionated about music. This is no shocker. My music collection may not appeal to the mass population, but it is quality. No cliched love-lorn lyrics. No over-paid or over-exposed divas. (Maybe the Gallagher brothers could be considered over-paid divas.) Anywhoo. I love music that has new and inspiring lyrics, and I can't turn down a song with a driving bass line. I also like some instrumental rock. I'm really into Explosions in the Sky.

15. I don't drink as much hot chocolate as I used to. This is not just because I moved to the desert. A year prior to my departure I stopped drinking it. In the winter I would have about a cup a day. Now it's like one every four months.

16. Oh vey. Are you bored yet? Maybe I am not so interesting after all.

17. I can pick things up with my toes. They are rather dexterous. I may try writing with them. It's probably a good skill to have if I ever lose use of my arms.

18. I wish I was a runner. I could be a runner...if my knees didn't protest so much. I think I am going to sneak running into my exercise regime little by little until they don't realize that I am actually running.

19. I think my legs are my best body-feature. They are nice and long.

20. I'm also pretty pleased with the fullness of my upper lip. I think it makes them kissable.

21. I hate being interrupted, especially at work. When I am working on a project, I like to stay 100% focused. This, however, does not apply to packing or cleaning my room.

22. Any discussion of dating and relationships takes me to the dark place. I hate discussions that don't change the current situation of a thing...like dating.

23. I lived for many years in fear of a man with a hook for a hand living under my bed.

24. I think I have an addictive personality. I get obsessed with things like Friday Night Lights and Keane. I do consider myself a recovering Chapstick addict.

25. I live with a Pakistani family. They are wonderfully kind and generous.

26. I am not a good swimmer. I hate putting my face in the water. I hate when water trickles down my face when showering.

27. Almost there. I wish I was a better writer. I regret all the dance classes I took at BYU when I could have (should have) been taking writing classes.

28. I want to retire in Villefranche-sur-mer. It's this totally charming village next to Nice.

29. I would marry an Englishman for his accent alone.

30. Probably not. I am actually a little picky. He would have to be attractive and have an English accent. (I would also accept Irish, Scottish, Australian, New Zealand, French, Italian and possibly South African accents.)

31. Since working at a couple of cupcake bakeries, I can now say that I have a favorite dessert. I like fruit desserts. OK, that doesn't exactly narrow it down to one specific dessert. But I know that if I had to choose between chocolate mousse and a lemon tart, I would choose the tart. I like the mixture of tart and sweet.

32. I think I would like to start my baked goods business at a farmer's market.

33. The last one. It has to be good. Really good. I can be a little stand-offish when getting to know people. I am a little guarded. In fact, previous roommates have mentioned being a little intimidated by me. I am partly proud of that achievement, and mildly concerned. I don't mind looking intimidating, but only if that wasn't because I struggle to find ways to start a conversation with new people. I keep a rather small circle of friends, even though I am constantly surrounded by people that I would like to be friends with, but I can't quite seem to make the connection.

Phew. That was it. Congratulations if you made it through all of them. (I won't be offended if you get bored.) That was the most challenging exercise of my 33 years. So, were you surprised? is there anything that I need to expand upon?

2009-05-05T09:38:00.005-07:00

The Glamorous. Oh the Flossy Flossy.

Ever since my 28th birthday, I have felt the need to have some sort of exciting thing to do, whether it be a smashing party, dinner with friends, a concert, or moving to the other side of the country. This year, since I am still new to the country and have such a limited number of friends, I was afraid that this birthday would be a pity party for one with enough birthday cupcakes to soothe my wounded emotions. Fortunately, I remembered that Dubai is full of really unique activities...provided that one has enough money to pay for such diversions.

I haven't researched it yet, but I am pretty sure that I don't have enough money to go swimming with dolphins at the Atlantis Hotel (maybe next year), but a movie at a Gold Class Cinema is in my price range. When I looked up this option last week I nearly gave up on that idea too because the cinema was showing that Mall Cop movie. Umm. No. I am not going to pay 110 dirhams ($34) for a dumb movie. Sunday, I checked the Web site again, and with much elation I saw that one of the movies showing at the Gold Class was "X-Men Origins: Wolverine." I was so giddy that my friend Aaron was prompted to ask, "How old are you turning?" My response: "Twelve." Aaron couldn't go with me as he was working (suckah!!), but he recommended I invite one of his friends, Nancy, whom I am just getting to know. I was very glad that she was eager to go as well. Plus she has a car, and that meant I didn't have to pay cab far for the Mall of the Emirates.

The MOE, is probably the swankiest mall I have ever been to--that is, until I visit the new Vegas-y Mall of Dubai. I am sure many of you have heard about the indoor ski slope here in the UAE. Well, it is as the MOE.

The mall is about two stories tall. The 1st level is filled with stores that most of the common folk can afford. (Except for H&M, there isn't much I can afford.) The second floor is filled with the fancy stores like Louis Vuitton, Tiffany's, and Carolina Herrera, you know...the places you would visit if you needed something to wear to the Oscar's.

So, you are probably wondering what this Gold Class Cinema is all about. It's pretty much the best movie watching experience you could ever have. It's a little like watching a movie at your house, in a Laz-E-Boy recliner, a blanket should you need one, with state-of-the-art surround sound and screen. Oh, and a waiter at your beckon call should your ginormous cup of carbonated beverage empty before the movie ends. It's like that. No fighting over the armrest, no one kicking your seat, no sticky theatre floors.

Upon entering the theatre lobby, you choose what you would like to eat during the movie. I vascillated over having a burrito or a burger. I ended up going with a bacon cheeseburger because 1) it's my birthday and I wanted free-calorie fries; and 2) it is harder to mess up a burger than a burrito. (I learned that is not entirely true. Beef bacon is not bacon, and never will be.) I also ordered a Big-Gulp-sized cup of Diet Coke. It's amazing I slept at all last night.

Then I got myself all comfy in my seat and waited for the movie to begin. The recliners were so comfortable, and they reclined all the way back. Awesome. (Please note, that when eating a burger with ketchup and mustard "all-the-way reclined" may result in you getting said condiments all down the front of your only nice blouse.)

The movie was good enough, but the chair and service really made the cost worth it for a birthday treat. I pretty much only wanted to see that movie for three reasons: 1) it was not "Mall Cop"; 2) Taylor Kitsch (a.k.a. Tim Riggins on Friday Night Lights) plays Gambit; and 3) Hugh Jackman has a few scenes where he is not wearing a shirt. Good times.

Due to my long legs, I've always wanted to recline like this at regular movies. Too bad I can't afford this all the time. If the A/C was on too high, I would have even requested a blanket. You can't beat that.

The other thing I wanted for my birthday was a piece of berry pie. I went to this French cafe-type restaurant to find something that fit the bill, and I instead ordered a slice of rhubarb pie. It was delicious, and probably even more so since I hadn't had rhubarb in a while. Maybe I'll get a berry pie of sorts tomorrow when I join the ladies from church at Le Pain Quotidien.

So that was how I celebrated my birthday. Like a rockstar. Dubai-style.

2009-04-28T09:07:00.003-07:00

It's Good for the Soul

Dubai, like many Middle Eastern cities, has a few things in common with Utah. Well, mainly one important thing--a church on every corner. Of course, these two areas don't really share a common religion, but if you are looking to worship Islam here in Dubai, you are never a stone's throw away from a mosque. But if you want to worship something resembling Christianity, then things get a little tricky.

Due to the large amount of foreign workers in the city, Dubai has allowed said workers to practice their religion, and has set aside neighborhood for them. This neighborhood, Jebel Ali, is not exactly centrally located. Fortunately for this automobilely challenged blogger, my church's leaders requested to rent a villa in one of the Jumeirah neighborhoods for our small congregations, and the request was approved.

Attending church here in Dubai, and even in a villa for that matter, is a lot like attending church in any other part of the world. We sing, pray, have potlucks, and there is a large quantity of children. There are a few differences however. First, my branch is a very multicultural branch with families from the U.S., Canada, U.K., Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, the Philippines, etc.

And the second difference? Church is on Friday. For the Muslim world, Friday is their Sabbath Day. Businesses close and the weekend begins that day. In order for other religions to avoid conflicts with work and school, we just shift our worhip day to Friday as well. (Please note that due to the strong Catholic population in Lebanon, church was still on Sunday there.) Let me tell you having worship services on Friday really messes with one's head. I forget that it's Friday, and I wonder why people are emailing me from work on a weekend. I was Skyping with a friend on Sunday and thought it strange that she was headed to church that day. It's just a little bizarre, but I think you will have to try it to really understand how odd it is for a Westerner.

There are two LDS congregations in Dubai, one in nearby Sharjah, and also in Abu Dhabi. (These four congregations along with several others across the Arabian Peninsula make up the Manama, Bahrain Stake--a stake is kind of like a diocese.)

So far, I like my branch. Everyone is very friendly. I think they get rather excited to see a new face since not a lot of Mormons up and move to the Middle East. (Plus with the economic crisis many have had to leave Dubai.) Last Saturday I was invited to dinner at one member's house. They found pork and were having a barbecue. I joined three other families, brought some cupcakes, and had a really great time. I do miss my little branch in Beirut, but I am glad to have more people to associate with.

2009-04-22T23:17:00.001-07:00

Don't Stop Believing

Some songs are just classics...even if they are sung wearing tight jeans and a girlie leopard print t-shirt.

Happy Thursday!