Another one down

Well another year down, I guess!

Tonight we have no glamerous plans, but to be fair, New Years Eve for us has had it's ups and downs.

2000 - our first new years eve together, we spent the night in a hotel room in Niagara Falls. We actually had a really good night and met an American couple, the woman had the biggest ass I have ever seen!

2001 - we lived in Edmonton and spent the evening fighting with each other due to a misunderstanding in which Cush walked right past me in the mall I was working in because he was talking on his cell phone, and I shouted after him *Hey Mr. Cell Phone!* and he gave me the finger and kept walking.

2002 - we spent the night in London at Cush's friends house after a house party, would have been nice to know though that it was a costume party with a 1970's theme. We weren't dressed for it and there was this embaressingly drunk girl wo kept making such a scene of herself, crying and falling down the stairs...messy.

2003 - we spent the evening walking around Toronto, saying "what do you want to do?" "I don't know what do you want to do?" "I don't mind, you pick." "Well I don't mind either, you pick." We ended up going home before midnight and Cush went to bed. I sat up and watched the ball drop with Bubbles the hamster.

2004 - we stayed in and celebrated with our neighbours, meaning Cush was upstairs watching Scarface and I was downstairs flicking between Dick Clark in Times Square and Kevin Frankish (a host of Breakfast Television) at City Hall.

2005 - I am drawing a complete blank! We lived in High Park in our beloved apartment, we had Fluffy Pants... I don't forget things..... Cush's birthday is in January and I threw him a surprise birthday party that year, so we were in Toronto, I was working at a magazine.....I have no idea!

2006 - we spent the night in London drinking the night away just off Brick Lane. We started off with a curry, then went to the first nighclub where we had a good time and then we went to another club where every single person except our group of 5 was on hard drugs. Some asshole ended up popping a balloon that Cush had got for me and some other guy was following me around offering me nitrate poppers. When I said no the thired time, he offered me Extasy, when I said no twice, he offered me coke. I then avoided being alone in the club because he didn't dare approach me when Cush was around, and I said no to the coke.

2007 - Al Gazal Pub at The Intercon in Muscat, we had a fun night. Our male friend had an attempted pick up by a guy, but our friend is not gay. I had a drink bought for me and many offers of phone numbers every time Cush either left me alone to go to the bar or to the loo. One time he came back and couldn't find me because I was surrounded by men hounding me. Then we tied a balloon to my shirt like a marking buoy.

2008 - Rockband, champagne, homemade pizza with pork pepperoni (ooo so haram!) and a mixed appitiser plate and bread take out. Woohoo! That's the plan anyway. We had offers to go out and do stuff but decided to just stay in instead.

I thought about some resolutions that I would like to make but I already quit smoking this year, and I'm already striving for weight loss. I'd like to be a better person but I'm not sure that personality makeovers really work.

6 random things about me

After reading CannedAm's post and seeing the tag at the end, here I go.

6 things about me:


1. I was born in the wrong year. I was born in 1981 but was surely meant to be born in the 1960's. In the 5th grade (I think I was 10 or 11) we made lipsynch music videos as a class. We could each pick out our own song and preform it however we wanted. I picked Stairway To Heaven by Led Zepplin. Umm yeah I got teased a lot for that, but I totally rocked it. I got the Led out!

2. I used to collect Beanie Babies and have about 200 of them stashed in my parents basement.

3. I was baptised when I was 6 years old (this is something parents usually do to their children as infants). I went to Catholic school (the same one where the kids teased me about my lipsynch, fuckers) because it was closer to my house then the public school. All the other kids in my class were going to do their first communion and I didn't want to be left out, so we had to do a quickie baptism. My parents are not at all religious and hated to be dragged to all these events, but that's what you get for being lazy I guess.

4. I had a mix of Daddy Cool (check out all the white people just sitting in the audience, it's wierd) and Rivers of Babylon by Boney M in my head for 5 days straight last month. So embaressing and annoying, I would just start singing them wherever!

5. I hate live music. I always think singers sound better when recorded in the studio and the live version ruins it for me everytime. 2 prime examples are Gwen Stefani and Brandon Flowers, they both suck live, but in the studio, they're great!

6. I have been having rampant sexual fantasies about 17 year old vampires, thanks to Twilight.

I tag everyone who reads this especially those who need to get off their butts and write a post! You know who you are....

Passage to India, I'm a meanie - and some randoms

After being introduced to Passage to India a couple of weeks ago by some friends, we decided to go for dinner with some of Cush's co-workers.

The service this time was not as great as the last time.

Drinking beer with curry is a must apparently and Passage to India serves Hinekin for 1.4 OR/pint, which is apparently a really good deal.

I would rather be boiled in beer then drink it personally, I think it tastes vile, so I'm not fussed about these things.

The guys were getting their drink on and eating curry and naan and having a great time when suddenly, without any warning, some guy in a suit comes over to our table and says that there will be no more alcohol served for the next 3 days from that moment going forward.

The guys took it hard, especially my man who had ordered a pint 10 minutes earlier and no one had bothered to say anything, or ask him what other drink he wanted.

After the meal some waiters started to clear our table. One of us asked for the bill. We waited and waited and the waiter came and took more dishes away.

We asked where our bill was.

The waiter came back and took away more dishes, still no bill...

I had enough. When the waiter came back again with out the bill, but to clear more of the table away, I said, *the bill? Today please!*

I'm terrible, but so was the waiter! Typically, you wouldn't expect the waiter to be clearing the whole table until after you paid and left.

Then the hostess came over, she's such a sweet lady, and she sorted us all out.

I'm so mean. And then I feel bad about being mean.

The food was really good though.

Random 1-Super full not over full!

A habit that I've carried with me from Canada is that I always fill up at half tank. I think that's really only important in Canada in the winter, but I do it here anyway.

I was at half tank and an amazing 306 kms. Isn't that great mileage?! Consider that I love taking my car from 0-80 as fast as possible, just because I'm always impressed at how fast it can do it!

I went to the Shell station yesterday, and I said, "Super full please!" and the guy couldn't figure out how to open my gas tank cover and he kept gesturing at me and saying "open, open!" I said, "just push!"

He finally got it, and started putting the gas in. At 2.6 OR the gas clicked off, which would signal to me that my tank is nearly full, which is fine by me. The guy then starts to top it up and I always look back and watch so I can have the money ready.

I figured he would take my tank up to 3 OR. But no! He kept going!

At 3.4 OR I started yelling at him to stop. He rounded up to 3.5 OR. What the fuck?

I'm very precious about my car. My last car, a cast off from my parents, was admitedly not a great car. When the gas tank was over filled, the exhaust system would fail and need to be replaced.

I don't know how or why, and I know my VW is a good car, but I don't want to start having problems with it.

The gas attendant then said, "not full madam." Sure as shit though when I turned my engine back on, the fuel gauge was at full.

Where do these muppets come from? Small car = small gas tank by default, doesn't it? You would never find (for example) a Yaris with a gas tank the size of a Range Rover.

Random 2-Forgive sure, forget probably never

My best friend (this one) from back home and I are still trying to work out our differences. She sent me a Facebook email way back when the water was off in Muscat for 5 days back in October. I emailed her back 3 days after because I hadn't been on Facebook to see it.

I then didn't hear from her for over a month which was pretty intense for me. Waiting and waiting and not knowing why she wouldn't reply to me for so long. We were moving on, weren't we???

I know she had been on Facebook because she posted some pictures and wrote on other peoples walls.

Finally 1 month and 4 days later I heard from her. She apologised and said she was having some troubles with various parts of her life and busy with school.

This time I waited 2 weeks before replying. Kind of like, she took her sweet time, so I'm going to take mine. (petty petty petty)

She got back to me another 2.5 weeks later which happened to be yesterday. Her life problems are still problematic, I guess is the word.

She wants to come and visit. Cush and I had offered in the past to give her $1,000 towards her tickets since she's a student and working in a cafe.

Of course it's not me that would be putting up the cash, it's Cush because he's the breadwinner (and yeah again, we're married so all our money is all our money, but you know it's tricky).

It can be hard to love someone who isn't in your life constantly anymore, right? I look back at our previous emails from last year and they look like they were exchanged between 2 young lovers torn apart. Now, it's not the same.

I was on the Canadian Living website (it's a Canadian magazine) and I came across this article which I felt was very helpful to me:

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Learn How To Let Go Of Grudges-It's better to be happy then to be right

Have you ever felt hurt, angry or betrayed? Then someone tries to give you advice by saying, "Let it go. Forget it. Stop complaining." This is infuriating because you feel justified in holding a grudge or you don't know how to "let it go."

Forgiveness does NOT mean:

• Forgetting. The rule of thumb is to forgive but not forget. You want to remember so as to learn from the situation and make appropriate choices in your future.

• Being a martyr. You can forgive someone for being a human being and doing what humans sometimes do – mean, nasty, atrocious things. But you can also take action by being assertive, never allowing it to occur again.

• Blind trusting. You can learn from the past and decide whether or not you will choose to trust that individual again.

• Reconciling. You may wish to have nothing to do with that person ever again. This is your life... your choice!

• Maintaining the status quo. You may wish to alter agreements based on the transgression. You now decide what is good for you.

Four blocks to forgiving

1. Believing others must apologize. You can choose to forgive even when others do not apologize or make amends. Forgiveness is for your sake, not theirs.

2. Believing you are letting them off the hook. You can take action and fight for your rights, requesting compensation or restitution, and still forgive.

3. Believing that forgiving shows what was done was acceptable to you. You can forgive, be at peace and still forcefully object to offensive treatment.

4. Believing that forgiving shows that the transgression was unimportant. Taking assertive action shows that you care and are willing to do something about it. You do not have to hold a grudge as this only hurts you.

Forgiveness is self-empowerment

Forgiveness is a conscious choice you can make. You choose to forgive. Remember: "To err is human, to forgive divine." It is a mature, moral philosophy.

To forgive with conscious awareness strengthens and empowers you to take action out of love for yourself and those you care about. Be assertive. Take action from a place of love, tolerance and compassion . . . but take action!

Forgiveness, for most of us, takes practice. It can be difficult but it is possible with practice. The more assertive you become (not hurt, angry or hostile) the easier it is to be forgiving.
Focus on the goal of having a happy life. When someone hurts you, ask yourself whether you would rather be happy or right? Choose happiness.
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I was just being stubborn. In the second last email I got from her, the one that took her over a month to reply to my email, she apologised to me for how things went when I was home.

I feel pretty good now about things, and not because she's down on her luck right now, but because I'm over it. I just don't want any drama anymore.

Simple.

And so that's Christmas...

Wednesday afternoon, I decided to pull a bit of a fast one on #3. Nothing malicious, I just said if there were no meetings in the afternoon, I would prefer to work from home because it's Christmas Eve and I had a lot of preparation to do.

He said, "Oh, Christmas is 2 days?"

And I said, "Well, it's really like a day and a half, today is Christmas Eve and we have celebrations in the evening."

He wished me well and sent me on my way so long as I assured him I would be checking my inbox. Again, he's not my boss but likes to think he's in charge.

So off I went to finish decorating the Christmas cookies that I made to give to friends.

(Find the recipe for sugar cookies here and the icing recipe here. I also made some oatmeal, chocolate chip coconut cookies, just because they taste awesome.)

After I finished the cookies I set about getting dressed and ready for dinner at Capri Court (I think) at Barr Al Jissa with our friends M & A.

For Christmas Eve, they had a set menu for 28 OR/person for a 5 course meal, plus a complimentary 4th appitiser which then brought the meal up to 6 courses and a bread basket.

Here's a description of the meal which we ate along with a bottle of water and a bottle of Riesling (white wine, which was very nice).

1st course-complimentary green roll thing with cream cheese melted on it.

2nd course-veal with some other stuff but since I don't eat veal, I had a nice salad

3rd course-cream of mushroom soup served in a bread bowl (awesome!)

4th course-ravioli stuffed with lobster and shaved black truffle (there's your 28 OR right there!)

5th course-fowl served on a risotto type bed (Cush had beef which he said was stringy)

6th course-dessert for 2 consisting of 7 different flavoured creams served in dishes your spoon couldn't reach the bottom of if you still had room for it

Personally, I think it was too much food. By the end of it, our bill for 4 people came to 163 OR ($517 Canadian dollars).

After dinner we managed to roll ourselves out of the restaurant and back in our cars and went to a house party in Azaiba.

The hosts turned out to be Canadian and really nice though a lot of their guests kind of put me off. No offense.

I got stepped on yet again, this time there was no apology. I think the woman was retardedly drunk. There was also some sort of 3 way all male kissing going on, which, I didn't really want to witness. I would say the same if they were straight men and women, or lesbian women.

Some people had those aweful new years eve type whistles which I think should be banned. Some poor girl had one blown in her ear and she looked like it hurt.

There was also some dispute with the upstairs neighbour... too much drama for me.

Cush and I went home, and I went to bed after I called my parents. Cush stayed up drinking until 6am and called all his friends and family to wish them well, what a trooper!

Christmas day (Thursday) I woke up feeling giddy. I hadn't been excited for Christmas for a long time like this. I held off as long as I could before waking Cush and manged 10 am. Afterall we had Christmas lunch planned at our friends M & S, so we didn't have all day.

We opened our stockings in bed and then went to the living room for presents. There was a lot of L'Occitane in mine!

Every time we opened something we would roll the wrapping paper into a ball and throw it for Fluffy Pants to run after.

He had a great time. I feel bad though that I didn't get him anything special except Wiskas canned turkey and giblets.

The present in my big box turned out to be Wii Fit which I asked for a few months ago. I haven't had the chance to try it out yet, but am looking forward to it. It has Yoga which I really want to get back into.

After gifts we went to our friends for lunch. They had a bunch of their friends and family over as well and it was a really nice afternoon/evening.

Friday, we went shopping to Ramez for rugs and carpets. They have a pretty good selection if you want something cheap and cheerful, and to The Sultan Center Wholesale and bought Cush a beer fridge. We also had McDonalds for lunch. Very rare indeed.

After dropping my man off at home and unloading all the stuff we bought, I then went to Home Center to check out the sale they are having. I thought there would be Christmas stuff on sale but no, it was all still regular price. Wierd, I thought.

Since TSC in Al Khoud had no cat food and neither did Fluffy Pants, I went to AL Fair and their Christmas stuff wasn't on sale either. Strange right? What do they do with it all?

In the end I did manage to get myself some Boxing Day bargains. Last week, I picked the stuff I really wanted from Suzy Shier online and told Cush that my 5 items came to $100 before tax and it was free shipping to my parents house on any order over $50. Cush said that he didn't mind spending $150 and I should pick some more stuff. I then waited for Boxing day to see if any of it went on sale and it paid off.

I ended up picking 2 tops that turned out to be on sale in a Buy 1 Get 1 Free sale. So then I picked 2 more tops in the B1G1F and now I have 8 tops on their way to my parents house including 2 sweaters. I just couldn't help myself!

The total came to $144 including $17 of tax. How awesome is that? It worked out to $18/top including tax. You would be so hard pressed to find stylish tops in Muscat that cheap. The above shirt is not one that I bought by the way, it's just an example.

This is just 1 of the reasons I love Canada. Sales. Really good sales.

I really am that shallow and consumeristic. I was thinking yesterday that we celebrate Christmas because baby Jesus got some pretty crappy gifts, and since we were made in his image, we make up for it by giving each other great gifts. That's about as religious as I will ever get.

Although I had plans to roast a chicken for dinner with some mashed potato, carrots and green beans, Cush got a call from the Canadians who hosted the party in Azaiba asking us if we wanted to go to Feeney's for a drink.

And so we went ended up eating dinner there. They had left the Boxing Day lunch menu's on the table still and I couldn't help but notice they had a very nice set menu with some homey choices like leek and potato soup and "roast beef with all the trimmings" for 7 OR ($20 CAD). Even though the menus were still on the table the staff said they wouldn't make it for dinner.

Ah well, next year!

This morning I awoke to find that there was no cat sleeping on my head, which is rare. I went about my routine and when Fluffy P still hadn't shown up, I went about looking for him.

He wasn't anywhere to be found.

I grabbed a container of his treats (brought from Canada) and shook it. He didn't come running.

I thought back to last night, after drinking 2 and a half wine spritzers, and coming home and then what... I watered the plants outside!

I ran to the patio door and sure enough, there was my favorite little face pressed against the glass.

What a terrible kitty momma I am! Fluffy P seemed fine and Cush tried to make me feel better by saying that he just camped out for the night.

I still feel terrible! Fluffy Pants did somehow manage to break a terracotta pot, I have no idea how though, he does like to sleep in the dirt.

I gave him some more turkey and giblets but he avoided me until I left for work.

Maybe he will love me again at lunch time.

Merry Christmas

When I was a kid, I loved Christmas. There were things I could always count on, like being spoiled.

My parents never believed in just buying me stuff for the hell of it.

Even McDonalds was reserved for when my brother and I brought home our report cards twice a year.

I wouldn't say I was deprived, it just made the special occasions more special, and simple pleasures like Happy Meals something to look forward to.

Every Christmas, I could always count on getting Barbies. I chuffing loved Barbies. I will never forget the Christmas when my Gramps bought me a Barbie Mansion. This thing was so huge our cats would sleep in it. One on the bottom floor and one on the top floor.

Barbie and the Rockers... my goodness. I had this one. The songs were awesome. The blue eyeshadow was awesome. The silver lame (la-may) was awesome.

My Barbie Mansion looked like this but it was pink instead of yellow (thank god), and I'm sure mine was bigger, but maybe that's because I was smaller. My parents had the same wood panelled basement. How tacky.

Every year, I would get more Barbie stuff and more Barbies to go with the house. My collection eventually included a white Ferrari, a horse, a sail boat which I took in my backyard pool along with Barbie, a BBQ set and lots of other stuff.

I also had a short lived love affair with She-Ra, The Princess of Power. I also had the Crystal Castle and Pegasus.

The downfall of Barbie in my life was the adoption of yellow Labrador named Cara. She was the best dog EVER and my best friend but she had a chewing problem and turned all my Barbies into war amps. Little plastic hands and feet would appear in the back yard among the doggie business.

Since I was getting older my parents kind of decided that they wouldn't go buy me all new Barbies and maybe I should move on.

Instead of playing dress up with Barbie, I put my clothes on Cara and played dress up with her.

Barbies were then replaced by Walkman's, and tapes and then cd's and Discman's, which were then replaced by lotions and perfumes and then eventually by furniture and decorative baskets.

It's funny how we get older.

Right now, there's a big box (and some smaller ones!) under the tree with my name on it. I'm so excited to open it. All I know is that it's heavy, and Cush has been teasing me about it for a few days now.

Also, Cush said to go online and pick out 5 things from Suzy Shier that I want. Suzy Shier is my favorite clothes shop from back home. They have everything from sluttish cleavage bearing boustiers to boardroom busting business suits for women. Kind of like H & M but not as fashiony and wierd. I keep looking at the tops and liking them and then wondering if they're appropriate for Oman. Hmmm sheer black t-shirt.... hmmm.....

The sweater and jacket sections keep catching my attention. I'm freezing!

Whenever I say to people that I'm cold here, they say to me, *aren't you Canadian? Shouldn't you be used to the cold?*

Um, we wear goosedown filled coats, wool hats, scarves, gloves and long johns under trousers when it's -20 C outside, and we heat our houses to about 23 C inside. Plus in Canada, I'm convinced that everyone has like 10 blankets, I did. I don't mean the poor unfortunates, but you will even see street people walking around with 2 or 3 blankets.

I was never cold at home.

Here, and I'm convinced this is how Arabs stay so young looking (until they reach the point of no return and then they look 100) is by keeping the AC at stupidly low temperatures.

I hate going to the movies here because they treat the cinema like an icebox. And the constant chatting on the mobile phone thing...

I miss snow. It's wierd not having a white Christmas. It's wierd not going to my parents house (or even Cush's parents house) where they would have a roaring fire and smell of turkey roasting.

It's wierd being an expat at this time of year.

My favorite shoes tag

I've been tagged by Amjad to show off my favorite shoes.

Although these shoes are mine, and I think they're all great looking (except the cheapo Old Navy pink ones on the side), and I would love to say they were my favorites, I can't actually walk properly in any of them. But I think they're pretty anyway.

The white ones in the middle, I wore to our wedding. I got tipsy and decided to take off my shoes and go barefoot. My feet then got dirty and when I put my shoes back on, I ...well ruined them.

The black ones on the left I bought for a Christmas party, and the ones on the right I bought in Dubai after finding out that we were supposed to meet some friends at a posh nightclub and I was only wearing flipflops and would be denied entry without *proper* shoes.

So here is my real actual favorite pair of shoes.... swallow any drinks now please.

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That's right, I've actually wore through to the sole. Pretty soon I will have defeated the purpose of wearing them at all.

I bought these in early summer 2007 on the way to softball in Toronto. As it was I worked all the way up on Bloor, and Cush worked down on King (which probably means nothing to most people who read this) but I would walk all the way to Cush's work (2 or 3 km's maybe) and then we would carry on together down to the ferry dock, where we would get the ferry to Toronto Island where he played softball and I watched.

For whatever reason, I was wearing these awful shoes that hurt my feet really bad and so I made an emergency stop at the Eaton Center on my way and picked these up.

I can't even remember which shop or how much I paid for them. I made the switcheroo with my shoes and carried on thinking that my feet would get all blistered but it wouldn't be as bad as the shoes I was wearing at the time.

These were truly magic shoes because they didn't hurt at all, and as you can see, I wore them everywhere, including the plane on my way to Oman for the first time. Now I just wear them to garden.

Tis the season

It's pretty amazing the difference a year can make.

Last year about this time, I was miserable, like more miserable then I have been since. Don't mistake miserable for angry. I was depressed.

Without going into too much detail, there was a man that I had several dozen run ins with who, shall we say, did not respect the sanctity of my marriage.

This man is no longer an issue.

Also, last year I was driving a rental car. A horrible contraption that I'm convinced was designed to help keep the world's population in check.

It was a Mitsubishi Evolution, which we called the Devo(lution). It's the kind of car where you put your foot on the gas and nothing happens for about 3 seconds and then when it finally decides to move, it moves slowly, not great for busy roundabouts. I think it could go 0-60 in 25 seconds.

I was terrified to drive, and Cush was so busy at work that he didn't really have time to take me shopping, so a lot of his gifts were from Al Fair. Nice huh? I guess it's the thought that counts.

(No worries babes, this year I've done much better! A little VolksWagon makes all the difference!)

This year we also got a Christmas tree. Not a small one either, a decent sized one from The Sultan Center. I got some ornaments and a tree skirt from Home Center and garland from Al Fair and then decided that I didn't want to have boxes and boxes of ornaments, so why not decorate with candy canes? Bloody brilliant I am sometimes. We got cherry (I think this one tastes like cough medicine), blueberry, strawberry, peppermint and chocolate mint ones. They look great.

We got a star for the top of the tree from Carrefour, but unfortunatly the star is too heavy and topples over.

I almost died when I went to my friend A's house and saw she had the same star placed near the top of her tree in the same predicament as us.

How is this even possible for this peice of crap thing to be designed and then mass produced and then sold to people who don't even think it would be possible to buy things in shops that aren't actually designed to do as they're supposed to?

Fluffy Pants has taken to laying under the tree on the tree skirt and has been trying to climb up it as well. We had to get out a plant mister to spray him with since I one morning and found the tree on it's side on the floor. It's not really been the same since.

Poor little guy. He has a thing for pine trees, real or fake. When we first got him, we lived in Etobicoke which is the west end of Toronto, just past the last subway stop. We rented the back split of a friends house and he had a huge backyard that we would sit out in sometimes. (We were only too thrilled a year later when we found the perfect place back in High Park.)

I had Fluffy Pants out on his lead and harness so he couldn't run away and he was enjoying laying the in grass. For whatever reason, I decided to put him in the house when it got dark and we carried on drinking and socializing out back.

About an hour later, I felt something brush against my legs and I looked down to see a cat.

*Oh hello cat!* I said, (I'm lame and talk to cats, whatever), *You look like my cat! Wait... are you my cat?? You ARE my cat!*

I went to scoop him up but he started running away. Fluffy Pants ran to the other side of the yard, turned around and then booted it for the other side of the yard which had a 4 foot fence and on the other side were a line of ancient pine trees.

He jumped clean over the fence and grabbed onto a pine tree with his claws.

Then he just sort of hung there, unsure what to do next, and meowed.

Cush grabbed him and we went in the house to see how the little Houdini had escaped.

In our bedroom we discovered he had torn out the screen window and jumped through. He's too clever, that cat.

Last night Fluffy Pants was standing up on the cool box which has been beside our front door an embaressing long amount of time, and started pawing at the door handle.

I try not to take it as an insult that he wants to escape.

Last year, I was also struggling with our gas oven. We bought a turkey and all the trimmings, and I was super excited to make Christmas dinner, which is really a lot like Thanksgiving dinner, if you think about it.

I prepared the turkey and went to put bacon on top when I noticed that the bacon package was sliced open, as if done with a box cutter. I'm sure it must have happened when the Al Fair guys were putting the bacon away. By that time we had not yet discovered the frozen bacon from Kenya and I ended up spending a small fortune on unfrozen bacon last year, since I had to go back and buy more.

Thanks to the gas oven the turkey ended up being cooked about 2 hours earlier then I though so nothing else was ready and we ended up eating at 4:30pm.

The year, we're having dinner at a hotel on Christmas Eve with M & A and on Christmas Day, we may have plans but we're not quite sure if that's still a go. Our backup plan is to do roast chicken.

This year is fixing to be much better indeed :)

Thursday night- Muscat Rugby Club

The Muscat Rugby Club is indeed back open and had some sort of Christmas party after the rubgy match Thursday at 5pm.

The game was won by the Muscat Trees over the Ba Ba's but I have no idea what the score was.

Cush and I went to the club around 8pm to join in the festivities. If I were to say that I don't do really well at these types of things, I would be being modest.

Most of the other dudes on the teams were really nice and chatty and some of their wives/significant others were alright as well.

I had the luck of chatting to a man who is about the same height as me, a rarity because I'm short (5'4), but it was nice not to have to bend my head back to speak to him. I made the mistake of confiding this to Cush who I should have realized had had a few pints by this point and was not in the mood to keep secrets.

He blabbed. The man laughed and called me a wanker. I felt like a wanker, but I was being genuine! I have constant neck pain from looking up at Cush who is almost a foot taller then me. I really did like being able to look the man in the eye while we chatted. We didn't chat much after that.

1st faux pas of the evening.

A little later, I went to the loo and seeing that 1 cubicle (I hate the word stall, makes me feel like a horse) was unoccupied by the white/red lock switcharoo, I opened the door to find a woman sitting on the toilet. "I'm so sorry!" I said, and she said "it's ok".

And she left the door open, still sitting there.

I turned away mortified, but she seemed really cool about it.

By the way ladies, just lean your hip into the door when you turn the lock. Otherwise the lock doesn't catch.

2nd faux pas of the evening.

I went out to find Cush being the ever social guy he is and talking to a random stranger. As soon as I rolled up, he excused himself to the loo. I was talking to the stranger when this woman went by and was leading her significant other backwards through the club, so they were walking face to face. I wouldn't usually care what people are doing, except that they happened to step on the back of my shoe!

OW! I said, I thought quite rightly, it fucking hurt!

The woman's reaction was rediculous.

"Sorry. OK!? Accident. OK!? Sorry." and she looked like she was going to hit me.

What the hell? I don't look for fights, verbal, physical, not my thing.

So I let it go, but it still makes me feel so ... I don't know the word, but bloody hell, if you aren't sorry, don't bother to apologise, it's just insulting. If you are sorry, at least be genuine.

I can't for the life of me of figure this out, but it pretty much ruined my evening.

If I had stepped on someone, I would never say "fuck you, what are you going to do about it?" which is what I feel this girl pretty much did.

3rd faux pas.

This is why I hate people. This is why these places give me the creeps. Don't get me wrong, it's a really nice club, maybe it was just a wierd night.

The stranger I was talking to and Cush when he came back formed a very nice protective ring around me, to keep me from being stepped on again, which was the only nice thing that happened that evening except the short man's wife telling me that my accent was really lovely.

So then I feel socially retarded by all this. I don't want to go out anymore except with people I already know, to places I've already been.

No that's not really ok, is it? That how cat ladies are formed. Thank goodness I'm already married.

I just hate the bullshit of people and their bizzarre attitudes. I sometimes feel like I have *treat me like shit, I like it* tattoo'd on my forehead.

I feel like a loser.

Courage, my word....

Well, har de har... I had my moment.

I was boiling the kettle at work to make a cup of green tea with mint, the Lipton kind, very nice. I went back to my desk to wait and I heard #3 coming through the hallway door that I usually keep closed to block out the sound of his loogie hocking.

He went into the kichen and I knew he was going to spit in the kitchen sink and as luck would have it, my water was almost boiled.

I knew it was now or never to take a stand, to make a point, to set him straight.

I quietly moused into the kitchen as only a non high heel wearing kind of girl can, and sure enough, he was just about to spit his freshly hocked chest mucus into the sink.

*I've got you now, Disgusto* I thought.

Just as he set it free, I put on my best, horrified, crumple browed look of innocence meets grossed out and raised my hand to my chest, *Oh! Please don't spit that in there! We wash dishes in there!* and I gestured to the coffee cups on the side with my other hand.

I have to say my heart was thumping in my chest, my ears were throbbing, my face felt flushed and I can only imagine red and my hands got a bit shakey.

I do not like having these conversations. As much as I bitch and moan to my hearts content for millions, ok, thousands really, to read, I have such a hard time with one on one situations like this.

It's like I'm having a severe embaressment reaction on behalf of the other person. It's so wierd.

If it were Cush, I would have no problem saying to him, *what the fuck are doing?* But he would never do that. So what's the deal? I'm not afraid of #3. He is not my boss.

#3 nonchelantly said *ok* and washed his spit down the sink and carried on getting a bottle of water.

Seriously?

He never apologises for anything.

Just so everyone knows, I bring a travel mug every day and bring it home at night to wash it.

***************************************************************
So I'm feeling a bit better after this weeks possible milk related incident.

Cush pointed out that I drink milk everyday, usually, and that I put some fat free cheese in my 3 egg white omlette at lunch time as well, so he thinks it's unlikely that I'm lactose intolerant. I also eat dips that I make with *fat free* yogurt and sour cream sometimes. And I had a small scoup of icecream last weekend.

I see his point.

Maybe it was just a freak occurance.

I still feel delicate, and whenever I feel delicate, I have a hard time eating the foods that I *should* be eating and instead will have reduced fat peanut butter on toast, Campbell's Chicken Noodle soup, and crackers, lots and lots of crackers. Oh and ginger ale, but I couldn't find diet ginger ale, so I had to do full calorie. Plus the addition of the rehydration salt water, which may or may not have been a bit OTT (Over The Top), I have gained 2.5 pounds in just a few days.

I'm praying it's just water retention with all the sodium I've been ingesting and that if I just keep drinking water everything will flush out.

The way Weight Watchers works is every week is seperate unit of time, and at the end of the week you weigh yourself. You have a Points target everyday and you have to write down or enter on the online widget everything you eat and drink. All food and drinks have a numarical value, or *Points* of 0 or higher, and you have a certain amount of Points that need to be eaten everyday. Water, broth and most veggies are 0 points. Some veggies are 0 points until you've had 2 servings and then it becomes 1 point.

The last few days, I've just said forget it, I'm sick, I'll do it again when I'm better. Since I'm feeling much better, I'm recommiting! Again! I'm not sure I'm ready to eat fruits and veggies though.

Maybe I should just muscle through and pretend that I'm feeling great and everything is fine.

I feel super bad about the gym though. I only went the one time, and was really looking forward to going the next day when my incident occured.

I guess it's only been 3 days.

Why is it so easy to put weight on and so difficult to take it off? It almost seems unfair. Especially for someone like me who doesn't eat a lot of fast food or high fat, high calorie food.

If I were to take an honest look at things, I would say it must be the alcohol I drink a few times a week on average and my lack of exercise. This week it was revenge of the carbs.

Right, total recommitment. This is totally do-able. Right?

I am a sponge.

Sunday night there was an almost tragic occurance. Well, an almost entirely in my head tragic occurance. I thought I was going to die. For real.

On Saturday, I joined a gym, considering I'm still trying to shed a few (several dozen) pounds, and I went after work, and it was fine. I did a short workout (30 minutes) because I was really hungry and needed to go home and eat. I felt like I was going to fall over, not good.

All morning Sunday I tried to think of things I could do to not be so hungry during my workout time, and as I reviewed the Weight Watchers healthy guideline whatnots, I saw they recommend 2 servings of milk/milk products per day. I have faithfully been using 1 cup of milk divided between my cereal and tea in the morning everyday.

I thought I would step it up a notch and had a cup of milk after lunch. Not long after I went back to work, did my stomach start to cramp violently and I had to leave. I drove like hell all the way home, and as soon as I got in the door, I curled up in a little ball on our couch.

Then the pain in my back started to the point that I could hardly move. I thought that a hot bath might help and so I managed to get that all set up. I wasn't in there very long because it just wasn't helping anything. I kept thinking, do I take ibuprofin or Pepto Bismol (I brought some from Canada)?

There were no undesireable yuckiness at this point, just pain. I drained the tub and went to lay in bed. It was about 5:50 pm when Cush called to check in on me. I said I was in pain, and he asked if he should come home instead of going to his sports thing that night.

I said no, it probably wouldn't make any difference if he was there or not (and I meant it).

Less then an hour later, things had changed dramatically. My stomach pain was now sharp, my back pain had intensified and I was starting to get scared. I sent a text message to Cush asking him to come home, thinking that maybe he had left his phone nearby.

Not much longer after that, I started vomiting. It was so bad but at least I was able to make the move.

I was all alone and starting to think I was going to die and that I should call 9999. That's when a miracle happened. Cush called me about 8pm saying he had just got my text and was on his way home. He must have driven like hell too because he made it in no time.

He came in to check on me and then got in touch with our friend in Ireland who is a doctor. Our friend told him to go and get me rehydration salts and something called Scopina (I think), it's for stomach pain.

All this time I had wondered where Fluffy Pants was but apparently he was camped outside the bedroom door.

So off Cush went to get me some wellness in a pill. He came back to find me on the bathroom floor. Fluffy Pants was in rare form and showed his love for me by sitting with me.

I managed to take the pills and drink some of the surprizingly not too foul tasting rehydration salts and I fell asleep.

The next day, (yesterday) was much better. My stomach was still hurting but not as excruciating. I'm still not 100% sure what the cause was. I blame the milk. Today my stomach still hurts. It hurts to walk and move. I feel exhausted and I just want to go home.

My mom thinks I have gym anxiety. She thinks it makes me so nervous that I created all this and it manifested itself physically.

Oh mom, if only you knew, if only you had seen me...

I feel bad that Cush witnessed this. My man, oh my goodness, has seen me be so undesireabley ill throughout the last almost 9 years. I haven't ever seen him throw up, not that I want to. And he still thinks I'm sexy!

My friend A, who had her own hospital stay this week, thinks I may be lactose intolerant. I just really don't know what else it could be.

On the other hand, I am surrounded by men who do not wash their hands, ever. So gross.

I feel like sponge for their germs and bacteria. I put up a sign in the loo on Saturday asking for hands to be washed before leaving the washroom and it was ignored.

Oh well...

Date night - Mumtaz Mahal

I think it's important for every couple, whether they've been together 5 months or 5 years to still go out on dates. I think it keeps things fresh and interesting as well as breaking up the mundane dinner in front of the telly every night rut that some couples get into. Ahem...So after one of his co-workers came back raving about the Punjabi chef at Mumtaz, Cush and I decided to go and try it out.

I'm not sure why there is a Punjabi chef there or how long this new menu will last for, but here are my thoughts on our evening.

It was the first night of Eid and Cush called to make a reservation. We started out in the hardcore 4x4 with Cush driving. He decided it was time for me to drive on the road leading to Mumtaz and Qurum Park. The Beast scares me to be honest. I have never driven something so powerful before. I should say that this particular beast of a car has a nasty habit of breaking down and making surprising and unexpected noises. She has a case of hickups that come on sporadically and she jolts violently.

Cush pulled in at the coffee shop there and we switched places. To be honest I didn't do too badly, but the gears don't slide into place as easily as I would expect and the Beast gives a learch when I let my foot off the clutch. My dad was so right when he said that if I learn to drive on a manual car, I should be able to drive any manual car in the future, he just didn't account for this particular car. She a fast girl with a big ass.

We traded places back because I didn't feel confident to drive up the winding hill to the restaurant. Cush of course drove it with ease and even packed her into the parking spot.

Left Bank was closed that night because no one was allowed to serve alcohol and I guess there's not much point of a bar being open with no booze. It was the same story with Mumtaz and Cush was gutted when he learned he couldn't have a pint with dinner.

The waiter was nice and patient enough as he explained all the dishes to us. I should mention that we really didn't need to make a reservation as we were one of about 5 tables in use in the whole restaurant. Thankfully the band was not playing. I cannot stand the lady who sings. I guess I just have no appreciation for Indian music.

For starters we had Kali Nirsch Kukkad (OR 5) which I think was this fabulous chicken dish which we both really enjoyed and Tandoori Aloo (OR 3) which was a potato dish, which was also extremely good.

I have to say that I wish we had just stopped there. The dishes that followed were such a disappointment.

For mains we ordered Chicken Saag (OR 5), Patiala Shahi Kukkad (OR 5) and Palao rice (OR 3). They had many dishes to choose from but I don't eat mutton or *meat* as it was called in the menu, so it was chicken all the way. There was no beef on the menu.

I was so surprised when the dishes came and there were 4 small pieces of chicken in each dish with lots of sauce. All the chicken was on the bone. Like drum sticks.

To me it reeked of cheapness, not upscale class, which is what I expected, especially for what it cost. I don't really care if it's Punjabi tradition to cook meat on the bone if that's the reason behind it.

I thought the Saag was incredibly bland and just generally yucky.

By the end of it, including drinks (one of which being a disgusting lassi that poor Cush ordered, took 1 sip of and left on the side), and a couple of roti, our meal cost OR 30. That's almost $100 CAD, which really puts it in perspective for me. I guess I'm still not used to rials because 30 sounds so little.

So disappointing. At least my company was excellant :)

Afterwards we thought we would go for a walk on the beach near Japengo. I was surprised to see the beach covered with shells. I suspect it to be remnants of the red tide which is blessedly gone.

All in all, we had a nice evening, but I suspect the 2 of us would have had just as nice a dinner, if not, dare I say better, at The Grill House. It certainly would have been cheaper for the same quality.

The results are finally in and.....

I have the best news ever. This news could even be lifechanging. This news, could be the best thing to happen to me in a long line of really good things that have happened lately that I've been storing up, just waiting for the right moment to write them all down.

Any guesses??

You would be extremely right if you guessed that I now no longer work Thursdays!!!!!

Yeehaw bitches! Woohoo!!!! Yay!!!!!!!!!!!

I am so super happy right now. (Is this when I find out that I've just negociated my salary lower for something the whole rest of the country is doing??)

Anyway, I have some other goods things to brag...post about.

My electric oven is shiznit! I'm loving it. I baked cookies and they were not black on the outside and dough on the inside. They were in fact perfect. I made brownies too, low fat of course, which were also perfect.

We bought it at Carrefour for about 120 OR (it was the cheapest electric one, which I did say never to buy, but it came with a warrenty and looked really sturdy). It's a Geepas which I have never heard of. It has 2 gas burners and 2 electric burners and the oven is purely electric.

The delivery guys totally sucked and ended up coming over at 9:30 at night, they didn't put the feet on the bottom of the oven and it came with no plug. Also, we couldn't figure out how to make the oven actually go until our new, good friend M and his wonderful wife A, figured it out that the timer has to be on for the oven to actually make heat. Clearly he is a genuis with a lot of patience. Cush and I never would have guessed, especially since the manual that came with the oven is for another oven model. Surprise....

My other update is that our friend brought me a slow cooker from South Africa. It's a massive 6L (6.5 quart) one. I haven't had time to use it yet, which sounds wierd because these things are meant to be time savers. I plan to make a nice beef and veggie stew tomorrow and maybe bake some buns in my new awesome oven.

At Ikea this past weekend, (I had to take advantage of Ikea in Dubai, I always do) Cush bought me a cast iron Dutch oven. I had an awesome antique Dutch oven back home that my mom bought at a farm house auction for $1, or about 400 Baizas. The Ikea Dutch oven cost $60 or 20 OR. But I figure since I used the one back home for everything, I may as well have one here too. The pots and pans we first bought out here are crap.

Back in August I had a few days that were pretty awful all in a row, including a broken license plate which needed to be replaced and then finding out that my insurance was not up to date. In the end Cush had to pay another 180 OR (or something) to get it all fixed. It now turns out that we have been credited the same amount because they did actually screw up. How fab is that??

Could this be the end of Angry In Oman?

The tale of the Woolworth's bra

About 8 months ago I was at MCC shopping around with Cush when I decided it was high time to get some new bras.

I spotted Woolworth's Intimates and decided to have a look around while Cush went and checked out some manly electronic stuff elsewhere.

We don't have Wooly's in Canada anymore but I remember them in the 80's (barely), and have shopped at 1 in England, so I decided that it was a reputable shop and should sell quality undies.

I picked out a few bras to try on, and then went by the Sale rack. That's when I spotted a very nice looking black bra which very closely resembled a La Senza I-Tec bra (which is like the Victoria's Secret I-Pex bra) both in material and structure, which go for about $50 or 20 OR in Canada.

The Wooly's bra was on sale for 12.500 OR. Seemed like a bargain to me so I tried it on. It did exactly as the picture above. Looks nice, right??

I ended up buying 5 bras during that shopping trip including the I-Tec wannabe and felt pretty great about my purchases.

A few months later while wearing my bargain wannabe I-Tec bra, I felt a wierd sensation on my shoulder. I reached in my shirt to feel around for what was going on, only to discover that the strap had completely ripped off from the back seam.

I knew that I had seen a *Ladies Tailor* in my neighbourhood so off I went with the bra now in my purse. I entered the shop and immedietly regretted not just stitching it up myself. The 2 dudes in there seemed really busy but friendly as 1 of them asked what I needed.

I took a deep breath and pulled the black foamy bra out of my purse and showed him the ripped off strap as he shrank back in horror.

*For fixing?* I asked, and he took the bra out of my hands by pinching it gingerly with 2 fingers. The man said ok and I asked when I should come back for it.

*No!* he shouted, *2 minutes! You stay!*

I think he really did not want to be alone with my bra in his shop.

He stitched it up really well and asked me how much I wanted to pay for it. I had no idea so I suggested 1 OR ($3 CAD), which he gladly accepted. I realize that I overpaid but I didn't really care since I had made him so uncomfortable.

I giggled and smirked to myself all the way back home with my fixed bra in my bag.

It lasted another 4 or 5 months before the strap broke again but I didn't want to go back to the Ladies Tailor so I just brought it home to Canada so my mom could fix it really well.

My mom did a really fab job on sewing the strap back on and the bra lived to see another party, another night club, and just 1 and a half more months before it finally died.

As we pulled into Dubai on the weekend, I couldn't help but notice that my chest was looking and feeling a little wonky. My breasts were now sort of pushed out towards my armpits instead up together neatly as they were when I left the house.

Sure enough, the piece of shit I-Tec wannabe bra from Wooly's had fallen apart again. This time right down the middle. The underwires were still in tact and doing their job, however the material in between the cups had completely seperated, which is why my tits were in my pits :D

I have finally given up on my pretty bargain bra and thrown it in the garbage.

That bra broke my heart, but it taught me a lesson in the end. Brand loyalty. I'm never buying bras, undies, or lingerie from anywhere but La Senza ever again. Thank goodness they exist in Dubai!

The weight of the world...

For the long weekend, Cush and I headed out to Dubai for some fun. As we do at home, we put on the radio on the alarm clock and listen as we get dressed and ready for the day.

I was astounded to learn that Dubai is something like $70 million in debt and people are losing their jobs.

There was a man on the radio from Hays Recruitment who was saying they are getting all kinds of resumes from the US and UK because people had lost their jobs there and were looking out here for work.

The man said there were so many coming in that they literally could not look at all of them for lack of time and were not even going to consider any of them until January, when hopefully things will be going well again.

A friend of Cush's who lives out there has had his paycheck cut and knows people who have lost their jobs.

There was talk of construction projects being shut down and massive layoffs. Having said that, Sheik Mohammed something or other, is still throwing a big parade and party to celebrate his 37th year of Dubai splendor and glory on December 2nd. Why not spend millions on a big party when the whole world is in financial ruin?

This is scary business. I found an article here.

Being 27, I've never had to worry about employment before due to this sort of massive financial crisis. I'm a bit worried to be honest. I don't want to go back and live in my parents basement and work at McDonalds. My mom would probably love to have me home though.

The problem that I have is that I can't quite make sense of all this. I'm not a numbers girl. Why on earth would banks lend money they don't have to the point where the whole WORLD is having problems.

What total and utter assholes.

So, why don't the governments just print more money? That's what I don't understand. Just make some more, then there's more, and then there's no more problem. Right?

Sometimes I think the world is going to hell. Just look at the state of us. Global warming is out of control and no one cares enough to stop it, people are losing their jobs, and their houses, and people can't seem to stop killing each other. And for what? God? Greed? Fun?

I don't get it.

A bit of advice, if you are thinking of changing jobs, I would stay put for now.

How secure do you feel in your job?