Ally McBeal wasn't anorexic, was she?

Being a women lawyer has its pressures. It's very competitive and you give up a lot of things like your social life, time with your boyfriend or husband, everyday errands, not having grey hair, sleep. For me, one thing I stopped doing regularly was exercising, which is proof of the terrible, terrible world I live in. Going to the gym becomes something you talk about but deep down inside you know you never do ("3 times a week" you say when you really mean "3 times in the last 3 months") and you really start to feel terrible, especially when there's nothing you can do about it. I think I'm an active person: I will always walk if I have the choice rather than take transport and I like going to the gym, but lately that hasn't been the case and I've really been feeling it. Working in a city law firm isn't helping this ill feeling either, especially as I realised quite early on that there are only a few overweight female lawyers: Everyone looks fabulous and frankly, I just don't see how everyone can stay in such great shape.

When I first started, I was constantly in awe of the waif like creatures that floated around the office in their Dolce and Gabbanna silk shirts and Dior pumps. They would all turn their heads elegantly towards me to smile while I loitered nervously outside their offices for the horrors of more work. I would stand there, self conscious in my boxy suit while they crossed their pencil skirted pencil legs or lifted heavy boxes with their (deceptively strong) twig-like arms. How did they look so good? Fair enough, most of these model-like female lawyers were not junior lawyers (therefore have gotten used to the type of work and frazzle of it all), but if they were in the office with me at half past nine in the evening, when did they have time to take care of themselves, i.e. work out? They were always so perfectly presented, and moreover, they were were all "skinny".

Bar two of the junior staff who were edging on the curvy side, there are no "fat" female lawyers in my firm. These observations took months to reach a conclusion and I believe that after looking at a large number of successful, young, female lawyers, I can concur that almost all of them are slim. Most of the young female solicitors in my firm of a certain rank and above are even quite "skinny"; no matter how drab their suit jacket may be, tiny waists and prominent collar bones are abundant in the office. They all look extremely busy, too, running around, getting things done (what I would consider "corporate cardio"). Perhaps it's the stress, I thought to myself, that makes the weight drop off. Everyone was fairly busy, there were very stressful times, so perhaps with all the madness your metabolism goes up a few notches and you start burning fat like an Iranian kebab shop. This puzzled me, since most of the men seemed to be well fed, so why were most of the the women "skinny"? Surely no matter how stressful it got, you would still break for lunch and dinner, or give into that mind-block-chocolate-craving that everyone gets just before 4 o'clock...

I saw these Skinnies step into lifts during lunchtime or leave the canteen, but soon I realised I never saw them eat. You see, there were times where I spent many a late night in my office building with my only real companions being the other junior lawyers who were slaving away and the canteen staff. Come a certain time of night, I would ring the other young 'uns to see who was up for some grub: If I was still at work at 8 p.m. and it wasn't looking like I was going to be going to a homecooked supper anytime soon, I wanted to make sure I got a square meal in me right away. This was my logic, if I was still working at this time, I was entitled to take a break with some food and have all the high trans-fats cheesy trimmings I wanted. I would pile my tray high with whatever hot dinner was at offer (Lancashire hotpots and pasta bakes of the sorts) and sit down to wolf if all down in less than 20 minutes. In the mean time, I would watch the Emma's and Chloe's float in, pick up some fruit and float out. There were exceptions, some did pick up trays of hot food like me (the roast potatoes, oh the horror of carbs past 6 p.m.!) and even though I would smugly watch them sit down and pick up their forks and knives, I never saw more than a few bites go into their delicate little mouths. The rest of their 16 minutes would be spent poking and prodding at their plates until it was time to go back up to their desks, and with a knowing smile sent my way, I would wipe my plate clean of any traces of my canteen dinner and wonder how they do it.

Soon enough, I found myself inspecting my side profile in the bathroom mirrors far too many times in the day and becoming very body conscious. I too wanted to become a hard working, female lawyer climbing the ranks in a City firm, I too wanted to become "skinny." This was not good, considering I have average BMI and was never one to scrutinise my body. Suddenly, I was always digging for skirts in the morning to show my defined calves and erase the illusion of plank legs I was sure the other lawyers all had of me. I wanted to look the part, walk the walk, talk the assertive talk. I, too, wanted to skip meals when working around the clock for Client X's refinancing model or when Client Hippo's demands were my main priority, not my afternoon snacks of sugary treats.

I tried, I really did, but my stummy would cry out infront of my supervisers. "Maltesers, they're only 190 calories per pack" I would say, sneaking down to the tuck shop to pick up 3 packets of the said treats, a Diet Coke and a Geobar (I hear they're good for you). Along with your usual array of KitKats and Yorkies, our tuck shop is also equipped with all the right treats to keep you trim, with calorie indexes on everything and plenty of shiny apples to make your eyes sparkle like a horse at the Derby. Being a City firm, we also have your usual corporate coffee stand for your obligatory morning paper cup coffee: I would gallantly march my way in the queue to place my louder than usual order of "One 'Skinny' Latte, please", only to have my barrista answer back "All our lattes are "Skinny", Miss". You could not even be served full fat milk if you wanted it, you all had to aim to be "Skinny". All of you. Every, single, one of you.

My current supervisor, an exposed chocoholic, has been a great help by stealing any chocolate I leave at my desk, albeit not very sneakily as I always manage to catch him in the act of scoffing the end of whatever sad soldier I've left behind. If it's going to help me get to that high powered job in my size 0 pencil skirt, I won't say a peep, after all, being skinny and successful go hand it hand it seems in big city firms. Also, golden rule number 1 of working in a law firm is never deny your supervisor of anything on your desk, especially if you want to keep your job.

Perhaps I am looking too far into it and that it is just by coincidence that my firm hires pretty, "skinny" lawyers and sees potential in the younger, "chunky" ones. Already I have noticed a few baggy shirts and loose trousers amongst some of the girls from my intake, even though I do not witness it in myself. I can only pray that I do not remain as the exception to the rule as one of the few "chunky" ones that sticks out like a sore thumb in our group photos.

* The contents of this web site may contain offensive material towards lawyers and not-skinny people. The owner of this website has made all reasonable efforts to ensure that all information provided in or through this website is complete and accurate at the time of inclusion. However, there may be inadvertant and occasional errors and omissions, for which the owner of this website apologises. The owner of this website makes no representations or warranties about the accuracy or completeness of the information provided through this website and reserves the right to publish this information. The owner of this website accepts no liability for any direct or indirect damages or any other losses or other liability whatsoever resulting from whatever cause through any person's access or inability to access tihs website, or through the use of, and/or reliance upon any informaiton obtained either directly or indirectly from this website. Because frankly, if you were in my shoes, you'd probably be touchy about not being skinny, too, and just want to cover your own ass.

My life at the moment

Clearly since my life recently has just been about my work, I haven't had much to say, or perhaps a better way to put it is that I just haven't had the time to sit down and blag away here so I've had to resort to showing you some measley photos I've taken and hope that it will suffice as an explanation of what it is I am up to at the moment.

Which as you can see, isn't much.

My phone.

My afternoon snack.

My walk in the morning.

My view leaving the office.

Maybe I'll do a camera phone "day in the life" as inspired by Twix. That could do it for me.

almost there...

Au Revoir

It's a sad day in my b'sphere. Today I have to say goodbye to the feeling of anticipation of reading new posts by someone I really admired, for many reasons, as he will no longer be writing in his blog. Your rants and raves will be missed, funny man.

Let's wave our farewell to our dear friend over here.

See you soon x

I am dusting off my Chipmunk's Christmas Special CD as we speak...

Jinga ling ling, Christmas time is coming up. The lights are up, shoppers are going crazy and all is jolly and merry in the air. As I sit, wrapped in my scarf in this cold glass building, I sneak peeks at the Christmas fair that has gone up outside Potters Field and feel a bit better about the winter chill... Little children appear out of no where (don't they have school to go to?) and everyone rushes out in their lunch break to buy some mince pies and Christmas cards. The best thing about winter in this country is Christmas time, the whole city lights up and there's something special in the air... I love watching the lights go up, this year I especially like the Art Deco lights of Regent's street and not very impressed by Oxford Street this year. I am certainly most impressed by the decorations in our flat...

Our tree was bought last year when my flatmate went out to get a "small little jobbie from Waitrose" and came back with a huge 6 foot (fake) tree with a trunk full of decorations. She had a sparkle in her eye and infected me with Christmasitis, we had a ball putting up decorations. I always liked Christmas decorations, but I suppose coming from a place where we don't really celebrate Christmas I was initially shocked by how far my flatemate goes to decorate the flat. I'm not just talking christmas lights, a tree and some baubles - I'm talking mini little snow topped cottages on our tree skirt and plushy beefeaters, as well as a few Christmas doggy ornaments and the special coffee mugs that come out every winter. Every night we get a chance to settle on the couch to watch some tv, the first thing we do is put on the Christmas lights on the window, light up the tree, and then sit in the relatively dark living room to relax. We always have to have the tree up before SinterKlaas (my flatmate is Belgian) and we must on the night of the 5th of December put out a carrot and a drink for Santa and his horse (yes, we're not 4, but before she wakes up I make sure there are some chocolate gold coins in my flatmate's shoes... and to my surprise, when I wake up the carrot and drink are gone! Must be a Christmas miracle...).

In the office there hasn't been much of a Christmas feel until today - the day of our Christmas Ball. The jolly admin staff have already sent around an email to notify us that we cannot ruin our brand new building in any way, so we are not allowed to hang Christmas decorations - well, at all. I mean, we can put some our desks but what fun is that? Let me tell you, the secretaries are not pleased.... This means nothing from the ceiling, no fake snow on the windows, no snow flakes or little christmas teddies anywhere. I understand it's not professional, but come on... it's Christmas... and if I can't have office decorations, well then Ricky Gervais lied to me in The Office. Hmph. Scrooges.

This is our busiest time of year in my department so I haven't had much time to do any Christmas shopping or go to a Christmas Fayre, but I will make time soon enough. Although last year I had the pleasure of spending Christmas with two of my dearest friends, I've opted to go back home and spend this time of year with my family, especially my nieces. If anything, Christmas is for them (how funny for me to say "them" and not "her"... there's two of them now!) so I want to go back and just be with them... I now wonder what I would have done if I had to spend Christmas here alone (probably working) - Although it is a lovely time of year, it's the most lonely if you'd have to spend it by yourself and that I am not planning on doing... No sirree...

And while we're at it, I feel like I should put up my Christmas Wishlist for those of you who are stuck for ideas:

1. An iPod that will not die after a few months of serious usage, can hold all my photos, my music, tell me the weather, pull up maps of dingy side streets when I'm lost, look pretty... basically, an iPhone.
2. Sunshine in a jar. Comme ca.
3. Some nice leather boots
4. Perhaps a nice handbag to go along with my nice leather boots
5. A Castle (or for those on a budget, the pink Sheera castle I had when I was a kid needs to be replaced)
6. A baby grand piano
7. Gift certificates for John Lewis (sensible aren't I?)

Let's all get into the spirit now... xxx

Absolutely Gutted

Yes you twat, cry.... hold your umbrella and sob because after tonight's performance, I really don't see how you'll be keeping your job... You may not want to resign but you'll definitely think about it when you come home to a trashed house and your car on fire...

It is completely your fault England have not qualified tonight... they played appallingly tonight... 4-3-3? What were you thinking? Why? And then watching Crouch play alone oh my... He may have scored the second goal but what were you thinking.... The whole team was absolute rubbish...

Carson... my oh my oh my... I don't think there's anything I can say that hasn't been said already...

I'm so upset... I can't believe we were clinging on to Andorra as our last chance to equalise against Russia... Andorra who haven't made it in the last 29 years were supposed to score a goal for us and they couldn't come through... All fairness to Andorra, they probably weren't as horrible as England tonight...

So much I can say but I think I should go to bed... goodnight...

Out and about: London Jazz Festival

I really needed to chill out. Predicting a peak in what one could call emotional instability, I sent an email to a friend with a link -"jazz at lunchtime?" - to which she was quick to agree to meet on Sunday at Waterloo ready to switch off and just chill out. The long sunny week passed and when Sunday came, the weather was horrible and we had to walk far too long to get a cup of coffee, but when we finally got to the Royal Festival Hall and saw the dim light stage, we relaxed. After finding a proper seat, I slipped into a stream of rhythm and forgot about my worries and my doubts...

We attended a performance consisting of 3 of England's top contemporary jazz bands in the Southbank Centre and although we only got to see one band, it was well worth it. The band consisted of a piano, saxophone, trumpet, bass and the drums and the composition of the music was very young, very vibrant and very, very good.

The nice thing about listening to contemporary jazz bands is the different ways of integrating each individual sound together. In the band we saw, there was no singer - which I prefer only because I tend to focus on the instruments rather than the singing (and usually the piano, just my own personal preference). The type of music that was being played wasn't the type that you could write lyrics to, let alone sing along to: any attempt to add any written words would have ruined it all for me personally. The final sound that came out together was just right for the audience of all ages and very current to today's tastes.

Some people don't like this particular style of music because they don't find it uniform enough and hard to follow - there's no obvious bridge or scale and can sound off key. Every instrument plays a different role which on the surface doesn't seem like it goes with the rest of the band - for instance, the piano player sounds like she's constantly hitting the wrong keys while the trumpet sounds like it would be better off alone. But what's great is that once you dissect each instrument and musician by himself, that is a song in itself - and every musician was playing to the same subtle tune. In one song, each musician had a solo in which at the end of the mini performances, when they all came together, the song made sense and you appreciated each musical contribution separately.

Some people also think that this sort of music requires a lot of improvising from the musician. I have to disagree with this because although it may sound like a lot of improvising (what may sound like a lot of mistakes, a lot of missed keys) - a lot of the time, it's actually not. After paying attention to a whole song, you'll notice the pattern of the music that really requires talent by someone who is trained in that genre.

As I said, I tend to focus on the piano if there is one because it's my favourite instrument so my eyes were glued to the pianists fingers - she was incredible, and I could tell it was from a lot of practice to refine that particular song. A lot of funky finger rolling was going on and I was just in awe, which also made me appreciate the rest of the band because the music wasn't all in the piano - the whole band was extremely talented and I could see why they were one of the best contemporary jazz bands of the country at the moment.

Although I really love the piano, I much prefer listening to a jazz band than one musician. There is talent in playing a musical instrument but there is far more talent in synchronizing your music with someone else's, especially in a genre like this. The band was very good and very original - they avoided the whole mainstream jazz scene which is exactly what I wanted to hear. It was a good end to the week and a much needed change from the norm - I'm hoping to catch another performance soon so long as I'm not stuck in my office building too often...

The London Jazz Festival will be on until Sunday the 25th of November with events on every day. Events at the Southbank Centre can be seen here.

Forster Gallery

You can buy me the prints. All of them.

Back to London tonight

In a bullet proof vest
With the windows all closed
I'll be doing my best

And I'll see you soon

In a telescope lens
And when all you want is friends
I'll see you soon

- See You Soon, Coldplay

I love/hate you ESPN

I'm not an athletic person at all. I have no competitive streak in me. The only physical exercise I partake in is jogging and I've never been in a marathon of any sort. I was never the kid that got picked last in gym class, I was just the kid that was never there. I just didn't care for playing any competitive games at all. But still, I think I can say I understand sports.

Growing up, I never interfered with football games on TV or the strange language of baseball players between my brothers. I got it - sports are important to men and that's just the way it is. It never bothered me, I never thought of it. When I went to college, I even became an avid football supporter - I became the girl who jumped on her chair and screamed in the face of a rival team's supporter when my team won an important game (Vimmel, if you ever read this, I'm not sorry). Still, I never went to play footie with the boys or try my hand at squash or hockey and at the same time I never dismissed any of it as being unimportant to anyone. I valued how people felt about sports.

Towards the end of my college years, I met this guy and I kinda liked him. He was pretty cool; he was smart, funny, down to earth, a bit of a geek, listened to some cool indie music. He was also a crazy sports fan and I thought that was pretty cool too. I actually thought it was important to like a guy who liked sports, because it gave him something to feel passionately about. Not so cool that he felt so passionately about my team's rival football team, but I pushed that aside. He had other good qualities in him. So I didn't think too much of it.

Soon enough, I started dating this guy. The first week of our official courting we spent watching Euro 2004. Our first summer was spent explaining the rules of the NFL and rugby. The rest of our courtship was filled with endless football games, international competitions and even lazy days watching darts (Phil the Power Taylor and his arch nemeses Scholten). I didn't really mind, I was pretty easy going about it. I toned down my hooligan ways and let him explain things to me I pretended I didn’t know already. It was sweet.

Me and the boyfriend then got engaged. Amazing, flowers everywhere, congratulatory wishes and everyone’s blessings. Things were great. Everyone was happy for us, we were especially happy. Boyfriend now becomes fiancé and is still ever as much a crazy sports fan. All is still cool.

Fiancées both move back home and back into their parents houses and fiancées want to live a happy engaged life together, as you do. But wait, how are we going to go about this fiancé business with all these sports on? I mean, the premier league is going to start soon... That will take away Saturdays and Sundays... Short after the Champions league will start too, so Tuesdays and Wednesdays are going to be written off as well... What now?

Male Fiancé gets an idea: He'll get a Showbox aka the-answers-to-all-my-problems-in-a-box-box. Showbox has a function where you can record TV shows to watch later a la sky plus. Excellent. No problems missing any important games. Perfect, perfect. I even call up Showtime to give them a shout so they can install his box faster, all in hopes that now we’ll be able to spend far more time together. Game’s on at 6 - that also coincides with dinner with all our friends for someone’s birthday that’s really in 3 weeks but we wanted to throw it now incase anyone travels at any point in between…? When this could have been an issue, it now was not a problem: we have the ShowDreambox…

Or so I thought.

Because then the inevitable happened. I mean, what was I thinking? That it was just going to end there? Here, let me set the timer for the United game today and then me and Fiancée can go back to being in love and… wait a minute, the Chelsea game’s playing too… Hmm… I should probably record that too… Wait, wait, I have to record the Liverpool game so I can taunt my best friend about it later… Hmmmm again… I wonder what else is on today…

You may think you got the picture but you really gotta try and picture it: Next thing it’s International friendlies. Then it’s Champion’s League games. Then it’s the Rugby World Cup. Then it’s anything where there’s people and a ball and screaming fan(s) and a whistle blown at the end and Fiancé going “Oh Wow it’s over” with a big sigh of relief like people did when someone big gave a speech or a war just ended. And guess what? If he could record them all, he would and he would spend all day indoors watching all the sports he can. Lucky for us, good-for-something-Showbox-box has a limit on how much you can record at the same time. Lucky us.

I thought I got it, I thought I understood sports. I mean, we even spent that summer watching the Ashes, remember? Wasn’t it nice? Couldn’t it have just ended there? I know that would have been asking for too much because I had to face reality: This was it, my fiancé is a sports lunatic. Fiancé has even asked that our wedding date does not clash with any major sporting events. And when I mockingly asked what game could be more important than our wedding day I should have known what would happen next: Fiancé’s silent blinking face stared at me as in his head he named all the major sporting events which he could not, under any circumstances, not even his wedding day, miss watching live.

I think I still get it, I think we’ve managed to work out a system in which we’re as happy as we can be. Sports are still being watched and fun stuff is still being done. We lay down the law as soon as we saw a potential conflict arise: Once I’m done with work, the remote control is dropped and we continue along our merry way. There are still many “but for’s”, but we’re managing pretty well so far.

I even let him read a bit of this post as I was writing it last night. He was watching some footie and flipping through the flip-through ART sports channel and he asked to read what I was typing. See, I told myself, he’s doesn’t completely zone out when the football’s on. I propped up the laptop and showed him what I was saying about him, I wanted to make sure he thought it wasn’t too inappropriate, writing out our private lives and all… In short, when he stopped reading out loud and snapped his head back to the TV screen, I knew that this wasn’t going to be a problem. I almost expected it to happen. And rather than get angry, I just laughed and finished writing this post.

There are a lot of girls that like sports. I enjoy watching sports on TV, I like the rush. I get in the spirit. But I also learned that I have other priorities in life that make sports take a back seat after a while. Men don’t really have that and I think women don’t really understand it. My only piece of advice to all girls out there is to humour them. Don’t pretend to be into it if you’re heart’s not in it, but don’t let it get to you either. It’s just sports. Don’t ever say that to your male companion either. Just find the funny side to it. Because when your fiancé starts listing sporting events that cannot, under any circumstances, coincide with your wedding day, all you can do then is laugh. Or call me up and I’ll laugh for the both of us.

1 Ramadhan 1428

God works in mysterious ways...

My summer island hopping (Bahrain is an archipelago after all)

It has been a hot summer here and I did not anticipate it to be otherwise. Hot, sticky and humid. It has been a nice summer.

I could have only guessed my stay here would fly by with days in the office and nights fluttering between one social event to the next. Weekends were spent with my family and his family and their family and then at various dinner parties eating Thai tidbits until 2 months flew by. I carelessly counted the days until reality told me my time here is coming to an end and soon I'll be back on the outside looking into a world I forgot I was a part of.

It's been a good summer because I love Bahrain. I love hanging out with my family and my childhood friends. I love cocktail Kuwaiti from Burair and drive-thru everything. I love the simple life here that can get you as far as you need. It's great, isn't it? My friends abroad leave me jealous facebook messages on how sunny life must be here and how wonderful it all is.

What I don't tell them is that after a whole summer here I've now got an itch that no matter how much I scratch will not go away. Who was I kidding, a whole summer here and I was expected to stay sane? With no special exhibitions in museums, no parks, no outdoors activities, no long walks, no intellectual stimulation, no anything new and no character to anything around me, was I supposed to be just fine and not feel useless?

I may have been working since day 2 of being back but I've just felt generally lazy this summer. I can't pinpoint what it was and I feel pangs of guilt everytime I try to break it down, but it just might be that I tried too hard to transition into life here and it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I miss being outdoors and exploring, I miss going for a run and then having a day jam packed with things to do. I miss being busy with "that sort of life" that a lot of people here just don't understand - "Miskeena" they say, shaking their heads "you're always running around, you don't have time to take care of yourself and relax"... all I can think is that maybe I like that kind of life...

I hated it when people said they "hate Bahrain" but I sympathise when people said it's "boring". It is boring and if you don't find ways to keep yourself busy it could drive you crazy. Life in Bahrain is far slower than many places in the world and if you don't accept it, you will go mad. I see people in Bahrain who are comfortable. They have their jobs, their social lives, their routines and it suits them just fine. I don't see myself there just yet. Where's the music, the art, the life? Or am I just being too ambitious?

And this is why I love London. I love every bit of it - even the mad bursts of sunshine in between rainy days, park lunches and all the media types of Soho. I love the side streets and the cafes, I love the Indian men in corner shops who drive Mercedes because they over charge you for a bottle of water and a Kitkat. I love the monuments, the benches, the Thames, I love everything about London. I love the Electric Ballroom and Harlem, kebab at Behesht and Kulfi from Brick Lane in Ramadhan. I'm itching to go back to the way things were when I was there... back to walking up long escalators and crossing streets like a real pedestrian. I miss our cafe nero and the beep of my oyster card, I miss shuffling through lines of slow people, I really miss it all... It's just my city and right now I feel like I need to go back.

Sometimes other Bahrainis talk about London and how much they love it, and I try not to get too possessive. I mean, not everyone knows where the best dim sum is or what it feels like to be attacked by a hobo. A lot of people don't know London overground or what buildings are teaching hospitals and elementary schools. Probably none of these people have ever worn mismatched clothes and gotten complimented on their outfit. Still, it's such a great city that it can be anyone's city - there's just so much to see and feel and taste and experience with all your senses and enough to go around for 11 million people at a time... Oh, I sigh as I write about London with a dreamy look on my face, I do love my city...

I love Bahrain but I miss my life in London. I miss being energetic, being arty for a day, being professional the next, being serious all morning and fun fun fun the rest of the time. I just haven't figured out how to bring that here.

Maybe what I need is to get away and reflect about all of this.

Maybe I'll do just that... 6 months in London again? Back to suiting, booting and commuting?

Perhaps that's exactly what I need...

On...

... Living at Home again ... Ups include never having to worry about dinner, never have trouble ironing a shirt and never running out of necessities you wouldn't always have in your home if you lived alone, like cotton wool or celotape. Downs include the obvious living at Home again - 'nuff said, I don't think I should elaborate anymore. I'm lucky to have supportive siblings who have also gone through this all so at least they don't argue back with me when I'm near throwing a tantrum (thanks guys).

... Working in Bahrain ... I'm really enjoying it, albeit it being very busy at the moment... A lot of people have told me before that "Bahrainis are lazy" but I can't really judge since I don't really work with any. So far, so good.


... Eating out in Bahrain ... Yum yum yum says my expanding waistline.

... Driving in Bahrain... What traffic jams? Or is this only because it's the summer time and lot's of people are on holiday? I don't get it... A'holes, however, I get and I don't like. Our GCC neighbours should not be welcome in our country no more.

... Shopping in Bahrain ... don't try and yawn through this one, Shopping here sucks... I miss boutiques, I miss market stalls, I miss unique affordable clothes... I walked into a boutique and picked up a caftan dress I loved but had to put back down because of it's 200 Dinar price tag. Ouch ouch. Also, I'm not the most fashionable person I know (far from it actually) and I can tell you that the definition of what's "fashionable" or "cool" in this country is really bland. Every girl here needs someone to tell her that she can dress however she wants and doesn't have to look like her 4 other friends who are walking in a herd in the Seef Mall. And by the way, not everyone can pull of red lipstick girls, not everyone...


As you can all see, I'm still in "adjusting" mode... Unfortunately, my other half (better half?) still hasn't come back so I'm feeling the pains of Bahrain alone, which feel magnified to the power of 100. A lot of things upset me and I've been trying to keep a positive outlook, which some of my friends find amusing and predict it to be short lived. I'll continue to keep positive, look at the bright things and I do continue to thank the powers above for everything I've got - it could be a lot worse... I'll continue to put down my thoughts, when I have time, so I can look back at this a couple of years down the line at laugh at how I feel at the moment. I'm looking forward to it.

No Ped Xings here

I got up from quick lunch at a Starbucks with a friend to head back to work one afternoon.

"Where's your car?" he asked as he picks up his Gucci shades and pulled out his Mont Blanc keyring.

"At the regency car park" I got up, adjusted myself and picked up my hand bag.

"Laish wagafteeha b3eeed min ihneey?" He asked, busy fiddling with his super cool new phone.

"Laish? That's where my parking spot is..."

"O Shlone yeetay?" we walked towards the door.

"Shino shlone? Meshait"

"You walked?!?!?!" He stops in his tracks, raises his eyebrows and mockingly drops his mouth open.

"Ee akeed" I stopped as well and knitted my eyebrows together. "Why should I drive for 15 minutes when I could walk for 5?"

He shook his head and put on his blinging shades.

"Ma7ad yamshi ihneey terra, 7u6i hai el shai fi balech"

Well Harumph to you too.

A picture can say a thousand words

Hey Sabooch, look at those idiots in the car taking a picture of us... pssssht... wasting their time when there's 50% off at Mango...

Keep walking ladies, I think I see the new extension in the distance!

Update This!

Ehhhh stolen internet again, this feels so good... thank you GOAT_WIRELESS* for bringing your unsecured network back into my life. Now I can go back to hours of useless web surfing when I really could be doing other things.



I've been busy and not at the same time. In the last 2 weeks I've

1. Left my old job


2. Went on an English Holiday and forgot about the polluted world


3. Had Real Cornish Clotted Cream Ice Cream


4. Saw a great play at a great venue


5. Saw an even greater concert at a much grander venue (MUSE AT WEMBLEY)


6. Became a Corporate Craving Slave


7. Started packing to go back home (half truth: the will is there, I can't bring myself to actually pack just yet)

I'd really love to elaborate on all of the above but right now Number 7 is apparently the most important. I know I'm going back home sometime fairly soon but I really can't bring myself to pack. It's the same sad feeling as just the thought of watching the final ever episode of Six Feet Under which is waiting for me in my DVD player - I just can't bring myself to do either, it's just so depressing. Anyway, it can't be that bad since I should be back in London by end of September to do yet another stint of hard work. So I'm not moving my whole life back just yet so I'm going to avoid the packing big for a little longer.

That's about it, I really don't feel like elaborating.

*Real wireless network connection name hidden for purposes which will allow me to continue using this free service until I leave. Like it or not, I'm stealing your internet buddy and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Not much longer left now.

2 More Days and I'm No Longer a FroggeyMan

It just hit me this morning that I will no longer be working here next week. Wow. And that I'm probably leaving London in about 2 weeks. Wow Wow.

I should take my stuff soon - the framed picture of my parents on my desk (Christmas Lunch 2005, R's house) and my CHOCOCAT flask (for my milk tea from home every morning). I should also close all my old case files and say my goodbyes to clients. Maybe plan a lunch on Friday. Steal some stationary. Tell a Boss how I really feel about her. Slap a co-worker. Kiss the delivery man. Whatever it is people do when they leave their job.

I'll figure it out shortly. I think the saddest thing will be saying goodbye to everyone, which I've been avoiding. Hmph.

What Lyrics... # 5

Make You Cry?


Aude Lang Syne - The New Year's Song, every time.

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of auld lang syne?
and there's a hand my trusty friend,
and gi'es a hand to mine,
we'll take a cup o' kindness yet
for auld lang syne"


Father and Son - Cat Stevens pre-Yousif Islam

The thought of struggles between a father and son, when the son won't take advice his father gives him - it makes me cry every time.. Why can't they just reach an agreement, damnit?

Wow, just typing out the lyrics made me teary eyed, moving right along...


Salam 3alaika - Kathim el Sahir

Singing the proposed Iraqi National Anthem, always gives me goosebumps. Preferrably the live version from Royal Albert Hall in 2006- even the memory of it makes me a little emotional.


What the Snowman Learnt About Love - Stars

The music here more than the lyrics, but "I am Sara and this is my heart "
*tears tears tears*


Tell Him - Lauryn Hill

Many disputes later, Ed & I stand by our words that this song is about God, which makes me cry even more when I hear it.

"Let me be patient, let me be kind
Make me unselfish, without being blind
Though I may suffer, I'll envy it not
And endure what comes
Cause he's all that I got
and tell him...
Tell him I need him...
Tell him I love him...
And it'll be alright..."


Transatlantacism - Death Cab For Cutie

This one hits a sore spot:

"The Atlantic was born today and I'll tell you how...
The clouds above opened up and let it out.
I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere
When the water filled every hole.
And thousands upon thousands made an ocean,
Making islands where no island should go.
Oh no.
Those people were overjoyed; they took to their boats.
I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat.
The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door
have been silenced forever more.
The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
It seems farther than ever before.
Oh no.
I need you so much closer

I need you so much closer
So come on, come on "

***********************************

This one was easy as I am a crybaby anyway. I could probably think of another dozen or so songs that make me bawl so I'll leave it up to you guys.

Your turn to shed some tears...

Concert Review: DMB is back again and heavy on my mind

Els sent me a forwarded email early yesterday morning from one of her colleagues advertising extra Dave Matthews Band concert tickets and my reply of YES YES PLEASE ME!!! probably scared the living daylights out of her (and the score of trainees copied on the email!). After sending my over enthusiastic written out yell, I quickly spoke to heron the phone and she said I had sent the most promising reply, as a lot of people just went "errrr alright then". We decided that even though we didn't know any of the new music they'd be playing to promote the new album, we should go as old time fans together, a flatmate bonding thing with some good music we both knew...



I've been a fan of Dave (and the rest of the band, of course) for just over 10 years now (which is a little scary) and I've never seen them live... When I say "fan" I mean I'm still listening to all the live versions of his older songs on my iPod which have been downloaded over the years, and since I have "all the good stuff" on my playlists, I guess that constitutes me as one... I was speaking to the Mr. last week when he told me his friends were going to see DMB in Dublin and I was a little jealous. "Maybe we can go when they come to London? I heard they're going to Wembley?" he suggested at the time and I dismissed it as one of those things that just never happens - I guess I was wrong - thanks to my over enthusiasm and a genius stroke of luck credited by a colleague of my flatmate who bought 4 tickets instead of 2, I was going to see DMB.



We got to Wembley with the rest of the late-20s/30-something crowds... Basically, anyone who went to college in the noughties was there ready to hear some music that reminded them of that one time in their dorm room when they were hungover some girl or guy and Dave was playing on the radio... I thought we'd look silly in our suits but as it was a mid-week concert geared to an older audience, a lot of people showed up after work and hung outside the arena chatting away. It almost felt as if everyone knew eachother in a strange way and were all retelling stories of "this song reminds me of when..." It was pretty cool and Dave did not let us down...



They were spectacular to say the least... They started off slow but not too slow, with Dreamgirl and warmed the audience up with some of their new stuff. Tom Morello came on and Dave busted out # 41 and Satellite and the crowd went crazy - they were excellent and picked two great songs to play live with an awesome guitarist. Dave also did a bit of acoustics and played new songs called Sisters and the Idea of You which were both beautiful and got the suckers in the audience, yours truly, welling up with emotion. Of course sole credit doesn't go to Dave's rusty voice and squeaky guitar - the instrumental solos were fantastic, I've never seen a violinist go that crazy on a stage before... The pianist, brass players, drummer, the band was incredible... As on all their live shows they would go off on long and beautiful riffs and the crowd loved it, we danced away with the silhouettes of the other hundreds of fans in the arena and we ate it all up...



They ended the show with Ants Marching which got the whole arena up on their feet dancing... It was magical and when they said their goodbyes we stomped our feet for more until they came out to an encore of Two Step, my favourite ever DMB song... Of course I was chanting along the words and waving my arms as the music pumped my blood into my body - it was an amazing feeling that made me fall in love with Dave all over again, time and time again.



A lot of credit has to go to the lights & sound technicians - the way the band glowed of pinks and blues made them stand out as the glowing crowd of yellow and orange moved with the music... I am a sucker, I will always be a sucker, and the whole collaboration of sound, lights and atmosphere kicked me in my spine and made me choke up with a couple of tears... It was special, call me whatever you want but it was pretty damn special...



I am a sucker and I will say it: There was magic in that arena last night and I'm so glad I got to see them live... There was a lad infront of us who was at his 7th DMB concert and was telling us that this was the best he's ever seen... As we took the train home late last night I didn't doubt it - I think everyone was in awe of the performance. Rather than your usual rowdy post-gig crowd, there was happy nostalgic buzz in the tiny compartments of the tube on our way home and it was a nice feeling. His voice was still in my ears and around my neck this morning when I woke up - the live show will never compare to my measly playlist so I will commit to my memory for how great they still are.

Dave Matthews Band ended their European Tour in London last night at the Wembley Arena. Their new album will be out this summer.

Summertime Brings More Crazy People

I don't know what it is, but summertime brings a lot more crazies in London.

So many crazy people, so little pavement space... Exiting the tube station this morning, there was a guy wearing spandex flexing his muscles for the grim group of lawyers trying to get to their even more grim offices (all dressed in black, of course). Everyone was trying to move around his bright yellow body suit and his purple Y-fronts as he growled a couple of "HUWAAAA"s in our faces. Some of the students in the group cracked smiles, all the lawyers just hissed and moved away. This has been going on for a couple of days, I'm waiting for the day one of the Slaughter & May trainees who hasn't slept in 4 nights punches him in the face.

There is also an increase of volunteers from Amnesty International/PETA/Stop Abusing Kite Flyers and other silly groups that need attention (or so they say). There's no rain or hail to stop them from trying to pull their charms as you stroll down the street - this is what they've got to do and the sunshine only makes them stay out for longer... And with the sunshine, they pull out all their cute smiles and chat up lines "Come on, you know you've got a minute for me and all the Orphans in Guatemala love..." Grrrr... No I don't but if you grin at me like that I'll give in for the orphans... Some of them follow you and do a little dance, step in your way, and there are no puddles from the rain to stop them so you'd be surprised as to how far they'd go just to get your attention... The problem with this group is that you feel bad when you snap your "no thank you" to them on the street because you know you will walk 10 feet to a park bench and sit down to have your lunch in the sunshine. They know you're not busy. They know you've got money to spare. They even probably want a bite of your M&S sandwich (and you will feel guilty for it, even if you don't like to share food). It's hard not to give when the weather is so nice and you're in such a good mood (and Oxfam hires some pretty charismatic buggers to follow you around).

You know, it's not the heat that drives people crazy (this is a nice 16 degrees not the smouldering 46 that makes you want to kill an arab on a beach with a gun* double points for guessing the lit reference) - it's the fact that the weather is nice so you can stand outside and shout out whatever you want all day. There's no piercing winds to push you down the street and indoors, so why don't you pull out your hair in minimal clothing and dance around in the streets? It's okay, it's sunny, no one minds... Go on... wanna grab a tambourine and shake it in my face? Sure, go for it! It's sunny, I don't care!

Of course, summer brings two groups of people I just can't stand: Christian Winner/Sinner Preachers and the Hare Krishna. Those "Don't be a sinner, be a winner" stand-arounds who shout out abuse when all you want to do is get into Topshop really piss you off... and you know what? Tourists love them... Don't ask me why, but they find them hilarious... They applaud them, they take pictures of them, I once saw a Japanese couple videotape one... I just don't' see it, some crusty guy standing around with a megaphone (as if we need the extra noise pollution) shouting out abuse to all the shoppers and trying to convert them all... Aurgh... Slap them with an ASBO I say and move on...

And as for the Hare Krishna Hare Rama: Don't even get me started. Please, please, please, someone send a super tornado and whisk them away to Everest and away from my sight.

Point is, summertime brings the crazies, so watch out as you're walking down the streets in your flippers, minding your own business... and watch out for when you start to get them... Hey, me and my friends get it, we go a little loco when the sun comes out too... but you know what we do? We don't harass people in the streets, we just go to the park and run around like a bunch of monkeys amongst ourselves and capture it on camera, and that's okay...


Trafalgar Square becomes one big park today and there's a mini festival in Victoria Park with lot's of cotton candy & outdoor fun stuff. Oh, and I know David Duchovny isn't in London in the picture, but someone needs to tell him grey shorties are soo winter.