Mushy like a peep

The last two weeks are mushy. They've melted in my head like two marshmallow peeps you'd find melted in your car, sometime in July. Milk goes bad here, rather quickly. Who cares? Well, I did this morning when my swiss granola was very slightly on the sour side. Barely noticeable. Poor little granola chunks of sweetness. They didn’t deserve that. But I found a place to live which totally makes up for the milk that went down the drain. That was part of today's scramble. Went and looked at a couple more rooms from my new Lebanese landlord friend. I’ll have a nice little room in a nice little villa available sometime next week, complete with fresh paint! Ah, sweet fumes of freshness. And it’s on the BEACH. About a ten minute drive from the new office, that sits in the shadow of the Burj Dubai (that phallic skyscraper that's been all over the news? Yeah, that one.)
But back to cooler things, like my VILLA and how it's 100 meter walk from the sand, with a haphazard collection of international folks like myself happily dwelling inside and cooking with GARLIC. It's across the street from a Mosque, and down the street from the big ex-pat grocery store, a bank, and I’m not sure what else. Dubai might actually start to feel like a real town in a real country, and less like a mall. Phew.

I think I’ve been hit by a train. No. A turbo charged camel caravan. They came through the office at some point today, and ran me over. It wasn’t just the day, or the scramble for this villa, or the 50 briefs getting thrown in the air, or the agency meeting, where it became clear that I was going to be on every live project known to man, cause apparently all the writers are taking December off. It is December, so this isn’t surprising. But somehow in the midst of getting my health back, and my head screwed back on straight, I was able to get out and wander along Dubai Creek (think grand canal of old Dubai) So by old, it probably means they built it sometime last week, but so it goes.





















































So I had my first sleazy flirty old Arab encounter in the pool last night. he was very round, and very talkative, and kept high fiving me, with his greasy hands. He looked like the monopoly man! Note to self: Always say you're married. Always. Even to an Egyptian Monopoly man.

"You have boyfriend in Dubai? Haha! Now you have boyfriend in Dubai! High five! You have husband? No? Pretty girl like you, no husband? Now you have husband! Haha! High five! You come to Cairo. I show you good time!"

I bet. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't rude, or offensive. Just jolly, and very very hard to get rid of. I'm not sure how to be civil and polite without encouraging. I never knew the Monopoly man was Egyptian. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. Just duck underwater and keep swimming.


Some weekend fun!


































Milos, Deger and I went for lunch on Dubai Creek before Milos took us for the grand romp around the city last weekend. After a week of jet lag and general confusion that goes with being on the other side of the planet, after staring blankly at the Durhams in my wallet with very little comprehension, while coughing up a lung, without any sense of direction, or any desire to drive and get my confused ass creamed behind the wheel, this helped. A lot.

The construction is just a token of what's going on here. They're building whole micro highrise cities, all at once. This is a small little residential area near The Greens. I think. Which is actually green. Oh, and that blurry shot. My first camel. Granted, it was all decked out for the tourists in front of Jumeirah Madinat, this gorgeous resort modeled after a traditional Arab Souk. He crossed at the crosswalk, like every good camel should.

The International film festival is also in full swing. Deger found a documentary flick about a Gypsy Music Road Trip through the US, that had me weeping in my beanbag. It was free. It was outside in the middle of Media City, and we watched it from a sea of beanbag chairs. It was beautiful. So naturally, my camera battery died, but not before Deger could show all of us how delighted he was with his sandwich.