Gainful Employment

Today was the day that this involutary lady of leisure roller coaster ride came to a screeching halt. My friends today was the first day of my new job. I only just realised, after I agreed to start, that this means 5 days a week, from 9am-6pm everyday. With my new found arts and crafts and regular IKEA jaunts, however will I fit this in? And right before the festive season? I was so very much looking forward to the 1st Decemeber when my new lady of leisure friend and I were going to have a "Christmas-off" and turn our respective places into Christmas caves so that our other halves would come home to a room full of lights, tinsel and choclate baubles. But alas, one is young, has been unemployed for far too long and needs to work.

To make matters worse, it is a holy holiday this week and most companies have got the whole week off. You guessed it, the giant finally has some time off when I start a job. Ah the odds. But tis life.

I had been looking for a job for so long and just got to the point where I was going to wait to see what the new year would bring. At least I'm happy here now- I have good friends, haven't cried in months, I can do a U-turn from any lane, know the back roads to anywhere and exactly where to find the most random things. See now I fee like I'm home. But it was they who found me. I posted my resume online and they must have googled Disney. So, I am now working for a company that markets and distributes Disney things in the Middle East, which means I will be looking after territories that I would have never been able to show you where they are on a map like: Saudi Arabia, Syria, Bahrain, Yemen, Jordan, Egypt, Qatar and the UAE.

So just for a little change in pace, it was the giant who got up this morning, put on his jeans while I put on my work attire. And so the giant drove me to work which is about 40 minutes from home in the rural parts of woop-woop. He dropped me off in the car park which was sand as far as the eye can see and I arrived at the front of my building with foggy looking shoes and sand between my toes. It was about 8:45am- note to self, no-one gets there that early. The sweet little coffee man, who was one of the earliest there, showed me to my desk, wiped down the dust and dirt with a few tissues he got from the table next to mine and tidied up all the bits and pieces strewn across it. A coffee man- I never really knew they existed, I had only heard about them in dinner table conversations. I had always told the giant that I could come to his work and be his tea wench and push a trolley around with tea and refreshments every 45 minutes. Apparently his work has a non-spousal policy. So the little coffee man, who also doubled as the stationery man, would bring me a coffee as soon as the other was finished and by the end of the day was lecturing me on my over consumption of coffee.

All in all, the people seem lovely. Thank goodness I am next to someone who is equally if not more chatty than I am. Those who used to work with me know how I roll. The others are really nice, welcoming and had me on board for lunch before they even asked me. By the end of the day, we were all joking around and laughing, and it felt like I had been working there for about a month rather than 8 hours. So glad the girl next to me is hilarious and only 2 weeks new too. One of the girls that is in my team is Iraqi but lived in Auckland for 10 years. Hows that? We talked of our old haunts and how much we both love the place. Ah EnZed, you will always have a little piece of my heart, as will the lounge in the foyer of the Langham Hotel where they serve you freshly baked wafer thin biscuits with chocolate and raspberry dipping sauce with your morning coffee.

There was lots going on today, with people introducing themselves, new information, a round robin of chants coming from outside and my favourite, the chippendale ringtone of "My girl's in the next room sometimes I wish she was you.... But girl you make it hard to be faiii-thful with the lips of an angel". You know that song? Its always on the radio here and it topped it off to hear the chippendales sing it nearly on the hour every hour. Hilarious, though I'm sure that will grate. Most probably knowing me, it won't.

So here I am again, with Disney products on my desk, and most importantly the Sing Star games. This time, I won't get in trouble when I sing karaoke in the meeting room...just cos.

A brunch to end all brunches

So, as I've said before love a buffet as much as the next fat person, but when I say I love it, I mean I took out half an hour of eating time to take the photos of this place. The stations below just quite literally blew my socks off. Highlights 1. Gourmet burger station, 2. Pistachio chocolate fountain- I know- amazing. I'll let pictures tell this story. If anyone's thinking about Dubai right now, you should get your asses on a plane. Its the best place to be in the world right now, and I'm not even joking.

I know it doesn't take much to get me excited, but wouldn't you get excited at egg benedict waffles? Or an entire foie gras station?

But enough about all that lets get down to business. Outside there are about 15 food stations, each themed in a specific type of food. And the bit that i loved was that kids got their own little buffet area! Awesome- never got to check out what was in this section though! Bet they had some mean chicken nuggets...

Arabic Arabic
Moroccan

Seafood bbq

Gourmet burger station

Mexican

Asian

Mongolian Grill

BBQ Peking Duck pancakes...

Chinese

Another one...

mini shwarma kebabs -gold

The turtles! Not to eat, but in the water outside!

Desert

Pistachio chocolate fountain- unbelievable!!!!

I forgot to get pictures of the cocktail stands! Margherita, mojito... you get the picture. Hurry up and come over!!!

Thanksgiving Dinner

So last week, the giant called and said that we were going to go to a work Thanksgiving dinner. I was quite excited at the prospect because I love nothing more than eating, drinking and over the top Americaness. I was really looking forward to it until the giant called me one afternoon this week and told me that it had fallen through and he elected me to prepare the feast for his work colleagues. Hello? I can't even cook eggs without stuffing them up, how did he giant propose I prepare a thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings? The funniest bit was that my mum was overjoyed that the giant had nominated me to cook. She felt a sense of fulfillment as an Italian mother like as if she had completed a duty in life, that there was nothing left for her to do. Hilarious I say. She forgets however that this young one is an enterprising one- something to be proud of and not all at the same time. Anyway, the giant works with an American and a Turk (who thinks he's American) so they were really looking forward to it. In fact there was a bit of emotion as we held hands around the table and said grace as they were a bit homesick and thanksgiving is a very important holiday for them. Grace? My mum must be proud.

In the morning I dropped the giant off at work and went on operation pumpkin pie. I had googled and googled pumpkin pie to see if I could find a recipe that slightly resembled one we had at an American's house a few years back and BINGO, I found one. So where did I go? Why the American supermarket with the giant lobster on the front- of course! The helpful Indian man in the shop told me I got the last tin of pumpkin in Dubai as he had kept it aside for a lady yesterday that never turned up. So Hershey's kisses, marshmallow fluff and a tin of pumpkin in tow, I headed off to another supermarket that has the special sealed off section for pork products. There is literally a sign that says "Pork non-Muslims only". Pork was a thanksgiving requirement stipulated by the giant. I improvised the infamous olive and feta pies and replaced olives for bacon. They were a hit. In fact, the late comers were punished by not having any.

So I came home, prepared some cranberry cocktail mixers and put them in the freezer, tidied up a bit (ahem) and started to get ready. Something's missing here isn't it? The turkey. How was I expected to pull that all together? For 8 people? So, I did what any other respectable lady of leisure would have done and found a hotel that would prepare the 9kg beast and all the trimmings. I felt like a criminal, a true criminal, but there was no other way. After running around all day and cleaning up after the giant (how can there be so many pairs of dirty socks scattered around the house?), at 5:30pm I went to the hotel to pick it up. A 9kg turkey, roast potatoes, baked vegetables, stuffing, cranberry and gravy. The chef was running a bit behind, so I rang the giant who was in on it and stalled him and his comrades. I got it all home and after 2 trips to the car, the dream became a reality. I finally had everything... now to eliminate the evidence. I took everything out of its makeshift trays and found as many baking dishes as I could to make it look as though I had been slaving away all day- which I was... I promise. Now I'm not one for a carb, and I don't think I've eaten a potato other than in chip form (because that doesn't count) since 1983, but those potatoes were out of control. As the great man Bruno once said, I committed carbocide.

Everything was alfoiled up and in the oven- thank god we have one of those massive ones, otherwise I don't think I could have pulled it all off. I pulled our little Ikea dining table out onto the balcony and extended it and then took another table we have and extended that too. They all match. I had thought about this very well in February when I first did our IKEA shop when we arrived here. I knew there would be a time when I would entertain in large numbers, but have to admit, I never thought it would be for thanksgiving. I only had about half an hour to dress the table and realised that I didn't even have a table cloth for a large table, nor enough glasses and plates! My American friend on my floor (who I will introduce you all to soon- I can't believe I haven't done so already- she is my partner in crime and corruption and a great friend), who had also organised an impromptu turkey and from the same place as me, came to my rescue, while Tallulah with an 'h' dropped over some tumblers and a chord for my laptop. My table setting was set- amazing. Centre piece, amazing, scattered hersey's kisses- amazing, IKEA drinks tray for $18 amazing and bloody mary station-amazing. I know, I am amazing.

The company was brilliant, the food amazing (because I only made 25% of it) and I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming feeling of guilt as compliments like "this is the most amazing turkey I have ever eaten" and "how did you get that so moist?" and "oh my god you stuffed the turkey with vegetables as well?". I thought of my dear American friend on my flor who only a few weeks before had invited us over for dinner and served us soup from a carton for entree. I was angry at her for quite a while as I was on detox at the time and was sure that there was dairy in it. I snapped at her for being aloof and not being able to remember what ingredients were in it. I thought it was really mean because she knew how hard I was trying. I confronted her the next day and she confessed. She did it so well. I aspired to be like her and not be such an over discloser. She was so proud of me this morning when I told her I didn't tell anyone where the turkey really came from.

And so to you all who attended, if you should be reading, I am very sorry for not disclosing- I felt I was too far gone to back down or to back track, and thank you for your fine compliments. All I can say is if I had to actually pull that all off it would have been virtually impossible. Hats off to the mums of the world that make the turkey dinner and thanksgiving roast dreams a reality.

Unemployed benefits

My newly made lady of leisure friend, who I went to Jordan with, has been busy this past week with her inlaws in town. I've been hearing murmurs and rumours that a few stores now have even more Christmas decorations ready for sale, so I have been waiting for her to be free of her shackles so that we can take to these shops. So, yesterday in anticipation, I sent her through an agenda. 1. 8:30am bacon and eggs on my verandah, 2. 9:15am depart for Satwa to the fabric shops to get a few things made for christmas, 3. depart Satwa at 10:30am for IKEA 4. Depart IKEA at 12pm for The Daiso. She accepted all items on the agenda and rang my doorbell promptly at 8:30am. So off we went, Satwa first stop. I was picking up something from my tailor and she from hers, who co-incidentally was next door to mine. Apparently her Dubai is starting to become quite similar to mine. After a few pleat alterations and handing over some of my latest designs to be crafted, we made our way back to the car to fulfill item 3 on the agenda. Satwa, which I think I have mentioned before, is an Indian area with heaps of fabric shops, tailors, locksmiths, window tinting and car art shops. When I first arrived in Dubai I kept seeing cars with pictures of the Sheikh that took up the whole rear window and wondered who was making a business of it. Well, I found them in Satwa. On 2nd December it will be National Day, and the decorations are starting to go up here there and everywhere, but I am told, all the locals get really into it and decorate their houses, cars, wear the national colours and paint the town red, green, black and white...quite literally. Can't wait to post some photos soon. Imagine if we all painted Kevin Rudd heads on our cars for Australia day. One thing is for sure, they really love their Sheikh and are incredibly proud.

After getting my friend to stop the car so I could snap up that four wheeled baby above, we headed to IKEA. We saw it all today. Things that don't really require an explanation, but I had my camera at the ready to document it all. Have you ever seen so many stuffed toys and let alone so many in the back of a Peugeot 307? This side of the world never got the memo about the rear window being a place where you look out of when you need to change lanes. Hilarious. One of the other things that fascinates me are the jingly trucks on the road. There must also be a man somewhere that 'pimps' an old ute or work truck and transforms it into a colourful jingly jangly truck of beauty, specialising in butterflies and complete with wind chime dangly bits as mud guards. When you spot one of these on the road its like gold or more like 'punch buggy'. Even more hilarious. (Click on the picture so you ca see the finer detail- its worth it)

So finally we arrived at IKEA, returned a few things we had bought frivolously the last time we were there, found the amenities and prepared ourselves for our IKEA quest (which has nearly been a fortnightly occurrence since she quit her job). We took a little longer than expected at venue 3 on the agenda as they've mixed the showroom floor up a bit. At first we were a bit peeved they had taken the liberty of changing things around without seeking our approval, but then realised it opened us up to a whole new IKEA, as we found things we'd never seen before. Adrenaline kicked in again, excitement, pure joy, then we realised we were running behind schedule and had to head to The Daiso so my friend could be back before 3pm.

The Daiso was essential today. On the way, we contemplated stopping off at this Travel and Tours shop pictured to the left to nut out our next travel adventure. Funnily enough I'm actually watching "Dude Where's My Car" on cable- I think they would have also found this quite humorous. There are a few other places I might like to check out before considering a holiday on Uranus.

After a few giggles and hearty laughs, we tried to remain focused and headed straight for The Daiso. We were delighted to find that The Daiso has now opened a Christmas section. I quickly scanned the scene while my friend went through each and every christmas decoration with fervour finding more and more things he could spray paint gold- its one of the symptoms of becoming a lady of leisure. Everything turns into a 'craft' opportunity. We moved on to the main store split up at the entrance and took our time scouring the aisles. We were lost in the world of unnecessary tid bits and excess packaging... again. This photo somewhat captures the Daiso. That's an entire aisle of sticky tape- all types you could think of. Imagine this for almost every single one of your stationery, storage, kitchen, garden and plastic miniature food magnet needs. And that, my friends is a whole shelf of reading glasses with every different type of magnification you could think of. Below are also just a few photos of some classic Engrish on ordinary products, which ordinarily do not need any sort of prose, let alone Engrish. Less is more people and pastel colours don't ever need a comfortable breeze... just an fyi. But by far, today's best find was the sleeve cuffs found in the kitchen section so that you don't get your sleeves dirty when cooking. Ah! The Japanese are on top of everything. No Sushi clocks though. It's telling me is sashimi past tempura, so its getting late.

A few weeks back, this same friend of mine knowing well that I love a supermarket shop introduced me to another supermarket that I would never have known existed. If you saw this building on the side of the road with a massive lobster on it and sand on either side, would you know? All my dreams came true because its actually an American supermarket with all imported everything. For the first time, since learning about them in movies such as The Sandlot Kids and The Goonies and Stand By Me, I saw the chocolate covered goodness in the flesh. Goodness that goes by the name of Twinkies, Baby Ruth, Twizzlers and so many types of aerosoled food stuffs. As you all know, I love a good line extension (not to be mistake for Daytona 'time extension') and I quite enjoyed this Baskin and Robbins one. I mostly enjoyed it because I found it in the health food aisle next rice cakes.

So thus marks the end of our adventures for now. And these, all of them are the benefits of being a lady of leisure, but perhaps it will not be for long. Stay tuned.

Jackie Lou Blanco

When I used to work for the the little man with the black ears, I travelled to the Philippines a few times. When I used to go there, it was advised that I be on high alert. I was instructed not to travel on the 15th or the 30th of each month as most people were paid their salaries in cash on these days and subsequently many people were robbed or held up and I was advised not to wander the streets by myself. Being the anxious type that I am, I perhaps took this advice a little too literally, and didn't leave my hotel. I was fine with that though. I used to stay in the 5 star Peninsula Hotel and just cruise around the foyer and hang by the pool. I must admit, I was starting to get just a little bit anxious when people were looking at me, taking double takes and whispering - "What's the problem here?". On my first trip there, a colleague met me in the hotel the day after I got there. He was Filipino and could speak Tagalog, so I was very happy to have him on board.

As I walked in the buffet breakfast restaurant (something I do very well), I gave the familiar staff a bit of a nod and a wave, went to the omelette station, sat near the window, put on my dark sunglasses and sat contemplating another round of breakfast sausages. My friend came down and was standing at the omelette stand speaking to the omelette man, turned to me, pointed, laughed and carried on. "What?". When he came over I insisted he relay the whole conversation. Why were people looking at me all the time? Yes, I am short, yes, I'm a little out of proportion, and yes, all that room service was for one person. I was hungry. He said apparently everyone in the hotel thinks you look like a famous Filipina called Jackie Lou Blanco. Hilarious I thought. Had no idea what she looked like, but rolled with it. It now made sense. The staff at the hotel, my driver who kept looking at me in his rear vision mirror and the customs officers that looked through my passport thoroughly- it all made sense. When they would look at me strange I would say "Jackie Lou Blanco?" which would be followed by an "aaahhh!" or an "aaahhh" in unison if it were a group of people that had been starring. I was one of those annoying people for them who people would look at and look at again as if to say "who do you look like again" and then the penny would drop.


So I did a little google search on this 'Jackie Lou Blanco' character, hoping and praying that she didn't look like Ricky Lake who people used to say I looked like. Now that was a compliment. At least it was post weight loss. I soon learned that Jacqueline Lourdes Blanco Davao was born February 11, 1964 and is a well known celebrity in the Philippines. She is also daughter of famous Philippine singer Pilita Corrales who is that character in red to the left. Jackie Lou should also not be mistaken for Betty Lou (to the right) who came up on my google images search.



So this is me. The one to the left. Maybe, just maybe in this small pixelated picture, I might look like her. And you know what she's doing with her arms just there is quite rude in the i-talian culture. I also soon learned that in 2001, Jackie Lou Blanco won the Slimmers Fitness World's Miss Great Body fitness contest. Needless to say I was flattered and needless to say, even in this other small pixelated photo, there's a resemblance issue. For now I'll take it and run with it.

So now here I am in Dubai, and there are loads of Filipinos everywhere. Instead of turning around and saying "do you want a a piece of me?" every time I see them whisper and stare, I just know that apparently I look like this Jackie Lou Blanco. The ladies in reception of my building now call me Jackie Lou as I made the mistake of helping them pinpoint who I look like. But what took the cake was when I went to the service station the other night with the giant, to get his chocolate milk and some chocolate for me, the lady behind the counter proved the theory correct that they really do talk about you in their language right in front of you. As she was serving me, head down and scanning my items she said something to her crew in Tagalog, but I managed to pick up on the 'Jackie Lou Blanco' she dropped in conversation. Before she could scan my 'Snow Flake', I said "I know everyone says I look like Jackie Lou Blanco". She turned pale. Was in a state of shock. She quickly tried to back track, and I made out like I could understand. It was a beautiful moment. Maybe I should go and try to make it in showbiz in the Philippines. Just maybe.

There's a smell in my fridge, I'd better call somone to deal with that...

Yesterday I woke up and there was quite a stench coming from our fridge. I didn't even keep the fridge door open for long enough to work out exactly where it was coming from, I just quickly reached for the phone to arrange for someone else to deal with it. Allow me to use the expression I have coined myself here- 'that's so Dubai'. You would too if it cost you $7! Then I realised that I hoped there wasn't a similar stench coming from the freezer because I had just collected a fresh stash of 'Four n Twenty' pies from my "girlfriend"- (a friend in the know) and the giant would be devastated if we had to lose them through the thawing process. Actually he probably would be overjoyed that he could inhale them all in one go. I'm not one of those horrible expat witches that make their maid clean the showers that are never used, nor do I make them scrub the floors with a toothbrush, however I do avail of the services where a lovely friendly lady will kindly follow the trail of clothes across my house from all my costume changes throughout the week and fold and arrange them in colours and categorise them into singlets, sleveless, sleveed and long sleeved tops. The giant is getting a little worried that I'll get to used to this and when we get back to Australia our house will be a dump like the cat lady's on A Current Affair. I tell him it takes two to tango.

All this talk of help reminds me of the recent toilet fiascoes we've had in our Palm residence. Our place is a 2 bedroom plus maid's room which is about big enough to fit a king size bed and a cupboard. Sounds good I hear you say, buu I mean quite literally only that- if you had all that in there you wouldn't actually be able to open the door. Not so good. Instead we use it as a storage room where we dry our clothes and where the giant and I keep our his and hers craft tool boxes. So that's 3rooms and 4 bathrooms. Hmm. One of the toilets has been blocked for ages so we have been steering clear for a while. Everytime I remember or when another friend says they're having plumbing issues, I remember to call someone to fix it. That's all well and good, so why is it still blocked? Because they never actually turn up. A few weeks ago, we ran into a bit of a problem. Another one bit the dust. 2 down, 2 to go. Like a domino effect, the last 2 went one after the other- like as in one went that night, then our last portal the next morning. We were in a state of emergency and called upon a friend who "knew someone" to fix it. As far as I knew he was a plumber- he came with all the right equipment and was in a plumber's 'costume'. I soon found out that the same little man hung paintings in one friend's house and fixed the electricity in another friend's. One size fits all round here. The giant, being the logic and fact fiend that he is, spent the time while waiting for the man to fix our facilities (plural) to theorise why we had run into this problem, because of course the probablity of all 4 going, was statistically erroneous (and he would actually uses the word 'erroneous'- I just learnt how to properly pronounce it properly). Was there something wrong with the toilets in our apartment? Was there something wrong with the piping? Bringing the intelligent conversation down a few notches, as I do, I thought we should have a look at cutting down on the amount of fibre in the giant's diet and then we realised, maybe we really do need to use those hoses? Maybe the bidets weren't just shoe cleaners? Over my dead body was I going to use a hose. Since then, we have discovered that everyone on our floor keeps having the same issue. Something's wrong with the pipes on our level. Thank the heavens above.

In the same week, the giant left for Japan, and so the toilet conversation continued. We had 4 toilets that couldn't even flush while you have toilets in Japan that you can nearly push a button and order a skinny caramel latte and a little lady in a kimono would deliver it giggling.

That's enough toilet talk for one day. On to my next entry.

Dear Mum...

Dear Mum,

Contrary to your suspicions, I haven't blocked you from my blog. There's no way that is actually possible. Anyone in the world can read it. As I've shown you many times before make sure you're typing the address in the address panel and not misspelling it. Make sure Josephine isn't misspelling it either. Hi Jo. I got the memo through a sister that will remain anonymous. This aside, you're doing quite well for a woman who doesn't like dvd players because you can't rewind.

Can't wait for the next memo.

Terence of Arabia

What do we do when we fall off the horse?

Just like the great man Derek Zoolander, I also have taken a little too long to come up with the answer to this idiomatic expression. I fell of the Detox horse and am finding it bloody hard to get back on. It was a medically instructed 20 day stint where coffee, tea, alcohol, refined sugars, carbs and dairy are the enemy. I soldiered on if I might say so myself, but fell off the wagon at Central Station half way to Circular Quay.

On Friday morning, the giant suggested that we wake up early and take a trip down to Abu Dhabi to see a car that he wants to buy. How this seems to always be how my weekend start. My lack of enthusiasm was apparent, the giant knew he needed to add in something else to seal the deal. It was an easy one and he knew it. Food is the way to my heart and will always get me over the line. At the suggestion of breakfast at the Shangri La I was out of bed in an instant. Buggar it! I forgot I was on detox. Buggar it! Last year when I met the giant in Abu Dhabi, we stayed at the Shangri La and I had never truly experienced a buffet breakfast until I had been here. A place where they have a dessert island for breakfast and a white, milk and dark chocolate fountain flowing like the Persian Gulf, is a place I call home. Funnily enough though, I think Dubai has spoilt me. I remember being blown away last year when I walked into this grand foyer and I remember thinking how my mum would probably sell her three children off to a Bedouin tribe in exchange for the chandelier in the foyer. But it all didn't seem that grand for me now. I was hoping the buffet breakfast wouldn't let me down, but I thought it might as we had been to brunches in Dubai that on top of the normal buffet inside, they had international stands outside with themed foods from around the world, seafood BBQs and all different types of cocktail stands (please see photo to the left- everything you own in a box to the left).

But it didn't let me down. Not only did it have all the usual suspects- the egg stand, mushrooms, sausages, veal and beef bacon (at least you had the option between the two), they went that extra mile to offer different types of quiche, eggs benedict, fillet mignon, teriyaki salmon and those little hot dog pastry things all in breakfast miniature portions. So many dishes looking up at me with red devil horns screaming at me to eat them- but I remained focus on my detox. Coffee? No! 'Tis the broth of Satan! Focused I remained. That was until the giant came back with chocolate filled doughnuts and had ever so sweetly got an array of chocolate covered tid bits especially for me forgetting that I was on detox- or maybe he didn't and thought he was going to get to eat them all himself. As they were 90% fruit, 10% chocolate, I made a call that I thought only just stretched the detox rules. A bit of chocolate won't hurt. Beautiful- It's ok to slip once. Back on the detox I hopped. Until 5pm.

So we headed back to Dubai, because a friend of ours (my jetlagged F1 partner in crime) is looking to buy a new car and called upon the giant for some advice. I understand why. Before I met the giant, I had never met anyone that researches every little thing they buy, and never realised there is a magazine on everything you can buy. I can handle the car magazines, but magazines on hi fi systems, TVs and cameras pushes the limit. Don't the glossy advertising campaigns, point of sale displays and pretty packaging make the decision for you? Do we as marketers do it all in vain? Yes, so it would seem. They see straight through it. Since discovering this about the giant, I have soon learnt that there is a whole species of man that do this. Tallulah with an 'h' lives with one as does my friend 'who is a vet, writing her PHD on bats and enjoys musicals such as Calamity Jane and Fiddler on the Roof'. Probably why we get along so well ladies.

Before reaching Dubai, we stopped off at a service station for some light refreshments which usually involves a chocolate milk of some description for the giant and some sort of chocolate for me, if I weren't back on detox. While I was waiting for the giant, I saw a mum dealing with the screams of a child that wanted a DVD and so I moved out of the way and found myself a perfect spot to watch all the action without it looking like I was staring. Something looked familiar yet foreign about this DVD. I took a second look, then took to DVD section to check that my eyes had not deceived me. Bert, Ernie! What happened to you? Who gave you a mohawk and a monobrow? Who was it? Tell me who?

On the way to meet my 'jetlagged F1 partner in crime', his other half and I (who I will refer to as 'the fine cheese slicer'- and not as in 'fine', 'decadent' cheese, but as in a person who will go through a slab of cheese in front of you by eating a 0.01mm slither at a time) had already made plans with eachother so we both couldn't be dragged along on this car adventure. The 'fine cheese slicer' had a friend over from Australia and insisted that I join them on their expedition after a few Terence of Arabia 'Oh my god I am so sorry to interrupt your special bonding time together' and 'are you sure you don't mind's. It took us ladies approximately 30 seconds to work out what we all wanted to do and an extra 15 seconds to help the boys decide what they were doing before we were on our way. We headed off on foot and were a fair distance when we turned back to where we had left the boys and they were still in that awkward boy stance trying to work out what to do. I'm sure they were there for at least another 10 minutes. As we were walking to Dubai Mall, I warned my friend's friend that I talk a lot and if she wanted to actually get a word in she should watch my breathing patterns and try and slip one in then. True to my word, I don't think I did actually stop talking- not even for a moment.

We found a manicure place that would take all three of us as a walk-in appointment and after choosing a nail colour we sat down at our nail stations and took in the ambiance and the sounds of a pirated copy of the Michael Jackson movie with Russian subtitles. My nail lady sat down and started on my hands. A proper 10 minute head start on the other two girls. I took a moment to be silent and reflect- I started to feel bad that I had just crashed my friend's romantic girly day and that they both had to wait while my nail technician Candy went full speed ahead on my gnawed knobs. Not too long after, all three of us were in full flight. The usual questions started "you married?", "you have children?", "you bite you nails?" - "Yes, I do. Sorry...Please don't cut around there"- I instructed her not to go near my finger flesh bits, and I was quickly put in my place and told "I know you! If I no cut, you will eat! I cut!". I let her do what she had to do. I was too scared to argue. She was quite the perfectionist and took ages to finish my french polish. I looked up and both of the girls were done and dusted and were at their drying stations. Candy hadn't even finished one hand. FIFO, LIFO this situation was (first in first out, last in last out for the non-accounting majors in the room...yes, I remembered something)- or more like FILO- first in last out... hmmm filo pastry greek triangles- spanakopita. Hmm. Anyway, that's ok I thought, Candy's just a perfectionist- I'm ok with that, but if she did look under the table she would have noticed my blotchy fake tan on my legs that I'm also quite ok with- I wouldn't even really care if one of my nails smudged as I walked out the door. Get a move on Candy! She finished my nails, looked at my hands as if to say to herself, 'another job well done', then flicked them over to me to take a look and marvel at her work of art. I couldn't help but think they reminded me of the 80's pictures in the nail salons back home where they have the french manicured gel tips holding a red rose or a valentines day 'I love you teddy bear'. Not the best french manicure I've ever had, but hilarious all the same.

What to do next? The boys were about 3 hours and neither of us had heard from them. I knew the giant would be in his element. He would have loved every second of his uninterrupted car perving. The 'fine cheese slicer', knowing full well that I was on my detox suggested what to do next. "Well, I do have a bottle of champagne at home that were had planned to drink this afternoon" to which I responded "Well, look I'm glad you've mentioned it because I think it would be rude not to accept your offer"- and that's when I fell flat on my ass off the detox horse. That and when I found Cadbury scorched almonds (from Australia not the UK) in Waitrose and ate a sold 12-15 with my champagne. It was always going to to happen anyway. The 'fine cheese slicer's' friend had herself a pair of Miu Miu spectacles that kept catching my eye all day. They kept reminding me of the golden arches and put the old Big Mac or FOF on the mind- if I wasn't going to fall off with this champagne and chocolate, I'm pretty sure Sir Ronald McDonald was going to get a visit on the way home.

A wonderful night of stories and laughs, and laughs and stories that were always interrupted by "What is Chakira actually wearing?" and what type of lyrics are "I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful???" . The 'fine cheese slicer's friend was a brilliant video clip interpreter and shed the light on the meaning of so may of these unanswered questions. More champagne, a few more scorched almonds and a cold pizza that we sent back. After being transferred to the senior restaurant manager, they then came to collect the cold pizza, re-made it and it was then redelivered by a panting little man who ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. We know because we saw him run for his life from the verandah. It was just a little bit too funny. It reminded me of Manuel from Faulty Towers. The giant then swept me away when I started to mix up names- it was time to detoxify with some sleep. I took the rest of the scorched almonds with me.

A fun filled day. Loved it. Lets do it again soon.

The giant did me proud...

The only thing I asked of the giant while he was in Japan was to spend some time in a supermarket. If I went to Japan, I would go, with an interpreter, and spend hours in the supermarkets alone. We all know how much I love a supermarket and a Japanese novelty store, so I think I would be in quite a state in the land of Sushi and excess packaging. How the giant knows me well and knows that I love plastic novelty food. Check out my new keyring which I love. It's been hard to look at while I've been on detox though. Ps. That little tag hanging off the caviar sushi says 'Do not eat'.

As I am the queen of pushing limits, I couldn't quite get angry at him for pushing the novelty food limit with this clock where I have my very own sushi delight for every hour of the day. I do love it, have no idea where I will put it but appreciate the 'umour of it all.

One of the giant's favourites were

these chocolate banana cakes that look suspiciously like what you think they look like. I'll let you take this one in yourselves without a commentary. Surely they must know...or are they taking the piss?

The one to the right- I love. Soy Sauce flavoured Kit Kat? I can't wait to get off my detox to try that. Will report back in a later blog. This is the kind of thing that blows my mind- Soy Sauce, Green Tea and Koi-kinako (I'm assuming that's another stirfry sauce flavour)? Really?

Along with some chopsticks, sake glasses, a sumo doll and a little something in a duck egg blue bag, the giant out did himself. Thank you fair giant, although its after midnight... again and your Shepherd's pie is cold. Its funny how an hour can be four sometimes.