Saturday, 29 March 2008


I did the unthinkable; caffeine-wise. First, I had a leftover slice of pizza and a can of arabic coke for breakfast. Caffeine intake number one.

As I was getting all engrossed and shit in the Gnarlitude blog, my gnarlitude factor increased significantly and I started thrashing around my room when songs like 'Loveshack' came on on my iPod. As a result of the biker chic and glam goth fashion overload on that chick's metablog, I felt a shopping spree coming on...and a want of Starbucks.

Because it's almost impossible to get a taxi right outside our building, as its relatively new and at the very end of a very long street, I took a trek to the new Al Wahda mall a few streets away (with sand in my damn yellow flats because they decided that only some parts of the road should have sidewalks).

When I got there, I shopped. Gap. Accesorize. Some other unidentifiable Arabic teenage haunt where I somehow managed to find some tanks that I liked. You know those "teen chic" stores that play Pussycat Dolls tracks? Ya. I set foot in one of those out of desperation, thinking I should've taken a damn taxi to the further away but well worth it Abu Dhabi Mall. BUT Accessorize had these super cute jump ropes with Russian doll handles. I decided my new at-home workout routine will be consisting of jump rope and hoola hoops. So I bought a red pair of those. SO FUN! To buy shit like that. So, as I had lost the gnarlitude and had settled into furry bunny-tude I decided to throw in another headband with a dainty bow, and skipped away.

Then I sat in the vast food court with a styrofoam plate of really cheap, really great phad thai koong sod and a coke. Caffeine intake number two. The lady at the thai place was very kind as to offer me a taster of this obscure concoction I was watching behind the counter, milling in its container. Something called Nam Traklai (a Thai lemongrass cooler). Very refreshing. Quaint in taste. Didn't mean I took my mind off of the Grande Iced White Caffe Mocha I still wanted. She thanked me with a bow and hands in prayer for waiting 15 minutes for my food (I guess the Arabs don't wait).

I read some Hanif Kurieshi in a corner for a bit, while watching the Arabs in mall mode. The women sauntered leisurely in their black veils, blinged out purse and shoes intact, laiden with bags of one or more of these things, the Arab woman's essentials: La Senza lingerie, Aldo shoes, Fair & Lovely skin bleaching cream (for confidence and success, according to the TV ads), a barrage of cosmetics from every famous brand worldwide and Damas jewelry (the main jeweller for the Middle East, owned by a friend's family). They smell like perfurmeries; fucking nauseating.


And when I could no longer read because the word 'ambition' came up on the page, which reminded me of the deadline for the Harper's Bazaar short story competition themed 'Ambition', I went downstairs to Sbucks for my iced coffee and left. Caffeine intake number 3. Outside, there was an impressive line at the mall taxi stop, which amazed me, because I walked a few paces around the corner to the taxi stop before that one and found it deserted, with a lit cab in waiting.

Maybe the waiting crowd had a hunch because my driver had me puzzling over how he managed to get his license. He spoke almost no english, which is abnormal, he had no idea of the streets I was calling and said, "You know? You know?" so I could direct him the whole way, and he made rash decisions with no indicator, leaving honking horns in his wake. Then when it was time to point out where to stop, as soon as he heard the word 'stop', he stopped, in front of a car trying to turn out of a street, so I told him to 'Go up! Move'. This time, all he heard was 'go' and sped off. So, we passed my house and I had to tell him stop and walk a bit. Somebody tell me WHAT THE HELL!?

Anyway, I'm home now, rinsed my sandy feet and need to try on my goods before 'The In-Laws' starts so I'll check you later. Sadly, I'm also about to indulge in caffeine intake number four. I'm expecting to be quivering in front of the TV at 6am later. Why am I doing this to myself?

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