Angry In Oman

Renting in Muscat Part Three - Moving Day

2011-10-30T14:58:00.003+04:00

Even though I am getting a bit sick of The Renting Saga, I may as well keep it going. It was an experience I do not wish to repeat here ever.

Cush and I had debated back and forth about how best to move our stuff. We had heard a lot of horror stories about how either moving companies charged retarded amounts of money and damaged items, or of cheap companies that damaged items and so we decided to ask some friends to help us and we also rented our friends cousins truck.

When moving day actually came around it turned out that our friends who had said they would help had been on the piss the night before and were no longer up for helping. We understood, but then found ourselves at a bit of a loss. One dear friend of ours said he would personally sponsor a laborer to help us, which gave Cush the genious idea of going to Ghubra roundabout with the 4x4 and loading it up with dudes and bringing them back to our house to help with the moving.

And that's what happened. He said he got to the roundabout, stopped the 4x4, called out the window something a bit gay like "I need some dudes!" and 6 guys jumped in. Sadly, he had to ask 2 of them to leave which they did not want to do.

He took the four dudes back to our house and gave them some instructions and told them how much he would pay and if nothing got broken, how much extra he would give them.

While most of them did not speak English, they got the gist, agreed on the money and proceeded to start loading up our friends cousins truck.

They were doing really, really well to be honest until I happened to notice that they were carrying Cush's desk down the stairs with his super amazing, custom handpicked parts dream computer on top.

I remember the agony Cush went through researching graphics cards and ram and motherboards, and whatnot and how much he agonized over how much it was going to cost, and in an instant I saw in my mind how it could all be gone.

I ran into the hallway and all that would come out of my mouth was the word no, like "nononononononononono!" and I was waving my hands in a "no-go" motion.

One of our friends who had showed up to help heard me and also ran into the hallway and started saying "nononono" and waving his hands.

The 2 men stopped and stood there just looking at us like we were crazy.

And right there, there was the divide. And how could they know how much that small metal box cost and meant to Cush? Other than his car it's probably his most prized possession.

Between me and our friend though I'd say most likely our friend had more influence because he's a man we talked the dudes into moving the table and the computer back into the apartment, all the while they looked at us like we were completely nuts. I took Cush's computer off the table and asked that they not touch it.

One of them said, "we move everything, yes?" Like he totally didn't get it and I don't blame him, so I just said, yes, just not this.

At another point in the day I noticed one of the dudes was blowing his nose and wiping sweat off his face with what looked suspiciously like the red towel from our guest toilet. I went and looked in the guest toilet and sure enough, the man had taken my towel without asking, and no I didn't ask for it back. It was all his at that point!

My job that day was packing things up and bringing things to the door that could go and after 3 truck loads we were mostly done with only a few small things like the Christmas tree and a few shelves that could wait for another day.

We had had enough.

Cush dropped the dudes back off to Ghubra roundabout and paid them. The man who spoke English the best said something heartbreaking like, "thank you sir, now we can eat for 2 weeks."

Cush asked how long it had been since they had work and the man confided that it had been awhile and they hadn't eaten anything in days.

***Advice time*** if you choose to get some dudes to help you move, feed them first! I wish I had known... I would have made everyone breakfast first. I don't trust hungry people carrying heavy stuff, it could make for a bad situation.

When I got to the house for the first time that day I was a bit stunned to see how much of a hodge podge things were. I mean it wasn't too bad but little things like the water cooler was upstairs in Cush's office, and all the book shelves were in the kitchen.

A few of things did get scratched and the walls got quite a bashing all the way up the stairs but over all it only cost us 20 OR for each labourer and 40 OR for the truck.

As is a bit of tradition we ordered pizza to a friends house (the one who gave us the idea to go to Ghubra roundabout to get some dudes) because we didn't know our address and he brought it over and we had a few beers and began shifting things into place.

There's 1 more part, I think it will be called Renting in Muscat Part Four - Explosion of Water and Faeces. Yeah for real...

Renting in Muscat - Part 2 Curtains and Crazies

2011-09-27T11:12:00.006+04:00

Curtains.... never before did I ever place importance on curtains and blinds like I have here in Muscat. It's more important then it was back home simply because the sun is hotter, so good curtains and blinds help keep your home cool and dark. Man I feel like I really didn't need to spell that out but there you go :)

So Cush and I went to Ghubra roundabout where there are a few places on the North East side just by the hardware store.

We walked into the first place and the man working there said nothing, just looked at us, so we walked out and went to the next place which is bigger and we had used it before for our last place. We were greeted and told them what we wanted. Then a man came with us to our new place to measure the windows and get an idea of what we wanted.

No problems except on our way out a man who lives in the building next to us came out and started making bizarre gestures at us including drawing a finger across his throat, which was scary, to be honest.

We took the curtain man back to his shop and pondered how strange our new neighbour is and if he was an actual threat or just a looney.

A couple of weeks later and a friend of our helped us move some of our less used household items to our new place and both Cush and our friend nearly had 2 car accidents with the bizarre neighbour, at 2 seperate times.

In both cases the man was driving down the wrong side of the road and refused to get out of both Cush and our friends way. He kept gesturing for them to go around him. Since Cush was driving the Hardcore 4x4, a vehicle that is not much younger then I am, he just sat there and refused to move. Our friend did the same.

Back to the curtains, since Ramadan was just beginning we were told that it would be after Eid before we got our curtains, which is just stupid, really. After all we were only having 4 sets of curtains made, 1 horizontal blind for the kitchen and some curtains from our old house hemmed up and rehung.

We ended up saying that was fine so long as the curtains for our new bedroom were done first, as they are obviously top priority.

The curtians did end up getting done but I'll tell you I'm never using that curtain shop again.

The man who first did the measuring seems to have stopped working there halfway through Ramadan and so no one had any idea what we wanted.

The curtain in Cush's man cave/home office was particularly difficult for some reason. He has a bay window and so wanted the curtain to go inside the window so that he could put a tv on the window ledge and have the curtains closed at the same time.

Turns out this is impossible. Even though the guy who did the measurments said it was no problem. Of course he said it was no problem, right? Nothing in Muscat is ever a problem until it's a problem!

When we came to a solution, the curtain was then 3 inches too short.

Then for the grand finale, the miserable curtain man who I despised, it was mutual by the way, came to install the last curtains in our living room. Cush had gone out and just after he left the curtain man got down from his ladder and said, "money?" I said, yeah I'll pay you when you're done. He said, "boss money" and pointed at the door.

I said, yeah I have the money, just finish and I'll pay you. He grunted at me and went back to work.

He told me he was finished and I gave him the 50 OR that was remaining from our payment (300 OR in total) and he started trying to tell me that we owed him 15 OR more. I said no. He took a few steps towards me and said, "boss money. 15 Rials."

I knew we didn't owe him anymore so I said no and just stared at him until he left. I was probably eye balling him for a good 30 seconds. It was one of the most charged experiences of the year for me. Right up there with when I got into that fight with a man at Rock Bottom.

Just really wierd.

Anyway, Cush isn't allowed to go out and leave me with labourers anymore. It never ends well.

So back to the bizarre neighbour, one day as I was coming into our new house, I got out and opened the gate which we didn't have on the clicker yet because of all the people coming and going, I noticed the man who had given us the creepies coming up to his driveway.

He drove very slowly past me and started pointing and gesturing at me and so I said, "what are you pointing at me for?"

I just figured that it was possible that Cush or I had actually done something to make this man angry with us, like maybe we blocked his car somehow or turned in front of him in the neighbourhood and didn't notice and I wanted to know what it was and apologise if necessary just to move past it all.

He stopped his car and got in my face and said, "you speak to me?" and I said, "yeah why are you pointing at me?"

He said, "you leave here now!" and got in his car and drove to his parking space. Like oh fucking great, we just moved in, in fact we didn't even live there yet! When he told me to leave though, I got the feeling he meant Oman, not just the house. I bet he's one of those arseholes on Oman Forum who bitch about the expats.

I was completely shocked and a little shaken since I wasn't expecting such a high amount of aggression and hostility.

Luckily a nice man who was lost in the neighbourhood saw what happened and came over to me. He said I should call the police because what happened was completely bizarre and uncalled for.

I could barely dial my phone because my hands were shaking, but at least I didn't cry. The man gently took my phone from me and spoke to the police in Arabic.

Just then another man came from the building and asked me what was happening, I told him and he said please go to the police and that he was terrified for his wife and children to the point where he felt that he could not travel for work and leave them alone in the building for fear that the "crazy" man would do something.

The nice, lost man in his car said to me that I had to go to the police station. He gave me his phone number and told me to call him so that he could tell the police what he saw.

So off I went and I called Cush and he came too.

The whole ordeal of being in the police station was quite interesting. We recounted the events from the beginning when the man pulled his finger across his throat and pointed at us. The police laughed. LAUGHED. That pissed me off. I told them that this was serious. The man is obviously seriously demented. We told them about him driving on the wrong side of the road and the last event which had just happned to me alone at the house.

The police ran the mans license plate and then spoke to the other officer in Arabic. The only words I could understand were "Al Said". "Al Said?" I asked. The officer nodded and said but do not worry.

Cush said something like, "oh great, wasta" but the officer said no, royal or not it's not allowed for this man to treat us this way.

Just then a plastic bag full of needles and drugs got dumped on the desk in front of me along with 2 ID cards, in plain site of me by the way, and the officer with his bare hands started going through the bag.

Cush was horrified and asked me to offer the officer hand sanitizer which I always keep in my purse. He turned the offer down. Shocking.

About an hour and a half or so after we got there we went to the house with the police so they could speak to him.

As we pulled into the parking lot with the police, people kept coming out of the building and telling the police horrible things the man had done to them. He grabbed one man by the neck and told him to leave, he threatened to kill the man who looks after the building, he slams his doors at all hours of the day and night, he kicks over things that are left in the hallway, and on and on and on. In the end there were maybe 15 people who had come out with something to say about the man.

It was shocking. They all said that they thought the man was a drunk. I said I think he's just seriously mentally ill because he doesn't stumble when he walks or slur his words, but I suppose we'll never know.

I did point out though that if he is drunk, he's drunk driving all the time, because he's never home and when he is home he's always in this terrifying state.

Anyway he wasn't home so the police could do nothing. So they left. I even said to them that if he is a drunk, then he's driving his car drunk right now, because he's ALWAYS drunk (which is why I think he's just crazy) but they didn't send out an APB for his car or anything. They just left.

They didn't take anymore statements or written complaints, in fact no one took notes or anything.

It was such an anti-climax.

But we did find out that if you have a compaint against someone and they aren't home when the police come, they just issue a notice to summons which basically is a letter asking to the person to go to the police station.

If the person does not show up within 2 weeks, they get another notice to summons. Again if they don't show up in 2 weeks they get another notice. If again they don't show up it probably gets forgotten about to be honest and is probably up to the victim to chase it up.

In our case, the situation was re-directed to the Royal Office, because the man was a royal family member who appear to have dealt with it.

Everyone has these problems right????

Renting in Muscat

2011-09-20T11:13:00.004+04:00

Right so it's been a long time since I've posted anything because as always I'm super busy. Last month was all about moving out and this month was all about moving in.

So I guess I'll start from the beginning which was last December. Cush and I had had enough after 4 years of our apartments general decay, things leaking (I never thought water would be so plentiful in the desert, for real), things breaking and our landlords general asshole-ishness and decided to say that we wanted to move out in 4 months and could we have proof of cancelled rent check for the last 6 months of our contract, or cash or whatever.

We knew our landlord wanted to raise the rent to 850 OR/month so we didn't see what he had to lose with us going.

And he said we could go so Cush and I started contacting agents and viewing properties.

I'll make a list of agencies and websites at the bottom of this post.

There are some real strange houses out there, and some real strange agents.

One experience with an agent that really stands out is when we met an agent from Taif Realty who took us to 4 properties, 3 of which had already been rented out and there was no point in going to see them. She was a real piece of work. I was following her in my car and she put her left indicater on and turned right, swerved all over the road while talking on her phone and she was 3 hours late to our appointment but called every hour to let me know that she would be even later, so I guess at least she was courteous.

We also met with 2 other agents, both were excellent but we didn't find anything that we wanted.

There really are a lot of strangely built homes in Muscat and oddly decorated too. I've seen kitchens without room or a plug for a fridge, guest toilets with a sink, then another sink when you come out of the toilet and then yet another sink outside backing onto the washroom. I've seen houses with stained glass windows with the characters of rabbits and mushrooms. Kitchens with tiled floors, then with the same tile on the walls and again on the cupboards with ox blood coloured cupboard fronts and ceiling. I've seen opulent and plain, and even one with an elevator in a single family home.

The whole process was indeed facinating.

A month or so went by and Cush pressed the landlord for some sort of proof that we were going to get our second rent payment back, afterall it was in his best interest to let us go. He could then raise the rent to whatever he wanted.

Instead of that our landlord then told us we could only get our money back if WE found new tennants. Well, I wouldn't wish that apartment on anyone, and as we finally moved out things got much worse. Another post for another day I suppose.

So flash forward to August and we started looking again. We contacted the agents we had used before and set up some viewings. I also contacted some new agents that I hadn't been in touch with before, but I left out Taif because even though they look like they have good listings, I wasn't about to waste another day driving around to other peoples houses and being given the run around and neither should you! (if you're reading this looking for advice that is)

The agents I contacted were Engel and Volkers, Savills, Better Homes, Cluttons,and Gulf Property World.

I went into the search that even while I had preferred one agent from the last time, because she was both professional and personable and Cush knows the guy who I think runs the office (but I'm not really sure what his job is) that there can only be one winner and I treated it as a contest...in my head, I didn't tell anyone else about this theory.

Here's how it went (click the company name to get to their website):

Cluttons: I filled out a few property inquiry forms from the website and was never contacted. How disappointing.

Savills: I went with an agent to see a property but it just wasn't the right one for us. The agent said she would then call me back later in the day but I never heard from her again.

Better Homes: I filled out a few property inquiries online and was emailed back and asked to provide more details, I was then told an agent would contact me but no one ever did.

Hampton's: This was actually a really good one. I had seen a few properties back in February with a really nice lady, who as it happened doesn't work there anymore but I met with another nice lady who took me to a house which was already leased (this seems to be common) but she called me often to see how the search was going and to let me know that she was still looking for me.

Gulf Property World: These guys got off to a really rocky start with me. I first set up an appointment to see a house with a man who left me waiting and eventually never actually showed up at all because he forgot about our appointment even though we had made it the previous afternon. I was pissed. We were then passed along to 2 more experienced agents who took us to a house but didn't have the key and then couldn't get a hold of the landlord so we couldn't see it. But then they took us to one of the most beautiful houses that I've seen and it came in under our budget. It had a beautiful tiled yard, huge kitchen, gigantic beautiful built in wardrobes and a jacuzzi tub in the master ensuite. It looked like The Chedi as a house. We decided to take it if the landlord could wait a month. He said yes and Cush and I told all our friends about it. Then we decided to go back at night and see what the neighbourhood was like and as we pulled into the driveway which was a bit of a slope we heard Cush's car ground out on the slope. Yes he has a sports car but it's not lowered or anything different from any other car. We thought if his car ground out mine would too and that would leave only the 4x4 to be parked in the drive way and that's no good. We thought about ways to work around it but then the landlord said he didn't want to wait a month so we nixed it.

Engel and Volkers: This was the winner! Our agent Alexandra was amazing. I can't say enough good things about her. She showed us lot of houses both in the first round and in the second, some of which were just not right for us and finally found us our home. She was very active in calling us to see houses, emailing and texting to confirm viewings which is awesome, especially with the experiences that we had thoughout this process. Even after we moved in and had a few outstanding items of work from our landlord she totally went to bat for us with him.

There are of course lots more agents out there and different ways to find places lo live. You can drive around looking for for rent or to let signs on houses in neighbourhoods that you like, check notice boards in grocery stores, classified in newspapers, ask your friends and then there's also the Facebook group Muscat-Property.

I guess that's Part 1 in the moving saga, stay tunned for Part 2, yes there is more.

Quick Update

2011-09-11T16:28:00.002+04:00

Ok so I've had a couple of people sending me messages asking where I'm at and such....well I'm here, in Oman still, yes I survived Ramadan, yes I found a place to live and yes, I will be blogging about it.

But, in light of the fact that my landlord did not keep his end of the bargain on a few things, such as cleaning and painting the flat and my 30th (30th!!!! how did this happen?) birthday is this weekend I'm one busy biatch.

More to come soon, thanks for the notes of concern, it's always so nice when people you never met face to face care when you seem to have fallen off the edge of the earth :)

Ramadan...here we go!

2011-07-30T14:58:00.008+04:00

It's that time of year again, Ramadan is expected to start this week, possibly even tomorrow if the moon is just right.

It's the time of year when, for some reason, and if you ask a Muslim, they are likely to say they don't know why they do it, but Muslims eat copious amounts of Custard, Creme Caramel, Whip topping and any other pre-packaged, just-add-milk dessert made by Foster Clark's.

In fact if you go into any grocery store, you will see something like this, a sort of monument to cheap powdered desserts.

I guess it is pretty easy, quick and affordable if you're trying to feed 20 or so people dessert.

So, if you're new to expat life and living in a Muslim country, you might not know what to expect, I sure didn't. I thought it would be business as usual with only Muslims having to pay attention to Ramadan. I was wrong!

Even if you are not Muslim you are expected to respect the fact that it's Ramadan and fast in public. Actually it's not even fasting, it's more extreme then that.

No gum, no mints, no smoking, no nail biting, no licking stamps at the post office, no eating and no drinking in public places. Nothing may pass the lips. Even if you have medical conditions, such a pregnancy or diabetes, you are still required to follow these rules.

Also, all the bars will be closed and so will the booze shops, so if you haven't bought up all your license, better go tonight. I bet the booze shops will look like Walmart on Christmas Eve tonight. Be on the lookout for Ramadan house parties, there's usually plenty every weekend, and yeah you can get your drink on.

Also, the roads get a little crazier. And how could they not? You've got people driving around with no food or water, or let's face it, in some cases medication in their systems all the while it's hot and these particular drivers have been up all night eating, and up very early, before sunrise to get breakfast in.

All this makes for a lethal combo, and no I'm not Muslim bashing, it's just how it is.

I think how I would be with no food, water or sleep and I think I may as well be drunk driving, and really that's how it looks casual observer, like everyone is drunk. Fishtailing up and down the roads, making delayed judgements about time and space, going too fast or too slow...please be safe out there. I suspect this year will be more difficult then last year because of the longer days and the hotter weather.

Shopping gets a little crazy as well. It seems like the entire population is in every shop at all times, except when it's Iftar time (which means breaking the fast time), so I always go shopping then. It's just easier.

I'm sure for Muslims it means a lot more, like testing themselves through faith, giving to the less fortunate and slacking off work and sleeping a lot but you know I'm not Muslim so I'm not really an expert, so this is just an expat take on things.

One of my most popular posts on Ramadan is my first one, it's way better then this one, you can find it here

I wrote about Ramadan again here

So yeah, best of luck everyone, happy Ramadan to all.

A most excellent servicing

2011-07-13T12:29:00.005+04:00

Anyone who has read my blog in the last little while, or who knows me personally, knows that Cush and I have problems with our landlord and that we are so looking forward to finally moving out in September. *Look for my review of real estate agents and agencies in Muscat towards the end of September, it's going to be epic...like for real.*

Anyway, so for the last month and a half off and on I would be woken up by dripping water on my pillow and head from the airconditioner. Have you ever been woken up that way? It's horrible, like what I think Chinese water torture would be like only...you know, not so bad.

So I asked Cush to call the houseman/houseboy/maintanance guy (whatever we want to call him today) who said ok he would look into it, but then a week went by and we never heard anything so we chased it up and again we were brushed off.

I finally ran into him outside our building and asked if our AC's were going to be serviced or not.

He gave me some song and dance about how he's so tired and that he doesn't take care of the maintanance anymore (but he totally does!) and something about Bahwan that I didn't understand what he was saying and that the landlord had gone away on holiday and he couldn't get any money to pay for the service until the landlord came back sometime around the end of July.

Well....fuck that.

In the meantime I saw this sticker on our gate:

and decided to ask Cush to give Mr. Alex Joseph a call. But he didn't answer, so Cush tried again, and again and finally got him on the phone and he said he would come the next afternoon.

I thought for sure, yeah right, there's no way that guy is coming, but he did! He even found our house without having to call from a fixed location and have me go and get him.

I have to say that having lived in Oman for 4 years has kind of made me a bit ...I guess "battle ready" like everything is always hard or a struggle for whatever reason. Like my phone broke and I ended up fighting with the after service sales guy at Carrefour because on my life my phone did not come with a warrenty card, it just did not have one and of course they wouldn't fix the phone without it but the other Carrefour after sales service lady said they would totally have my warrenty card on file at the store where I bought it....it's a whole big story but this is what I've come to expect every time I have to deal with anyone anywhere here. I'm just always expecting the worst always. I had no reason to believe that my experience with Mr. Joseph would be any different...but it totally was!

So I showed Alex Joseph and his workmate around my house and told him that I wanted all the AC's serviced, I pointed out the dog and said that she would stay in her crate and not to worry, and he was totally fine about the dog, because some people are not fine about the dog at all, so that was good.

Then I pointed out the cats and said please don't let them out the front door, but when he saw McFluffin, he said, "oh your cat is pregnant!" I was so embaressed, because a) I'm a believer in the words of Bob Barker and b) McFluffin is a bit fat and I guess c) McFluffin is a boy.

I explained that because McFluffin is from Canada he has a winter coat that never really goes away because it's cool in the house in the summer and it's cool in the house in the winter here so he's just big because he's really, really furry. I might have lied a bit.

Mr. Joseph explained to me that he had 2 types of service, one a basic cleaning service that cost about 8 OR and another deluxe cleaning service that cost 15 OR per AC. I said that we were moving in September so the basic would be fine.

He went about his business and though we had a few hectic moments in the lounge with the AC above our mounted plasma tv under which rests a pretty well wired up tv bench thing with drawers and shelves that I said he could not move or put his ladder on, he was very patient and professional with me.

He went about his business through the house but when he got to the master bedroom he called me in. He said, "madam, I know you only want basic service but you must see this." I really didn't want to see how disgusting anything was and wasn't wearing my glasses but even I could see that the inside of the AC was sort of fluffy looking with puffy edges. It sucks having bad eyes.

Mr. Joseph said that we "have too much cats" and their fur clogged the filter and that he recommended the deluxe service for that AC. I asked what it entailed and he said that he would wash the AC with a pressure washer.

I had just assumed that he and his workmate would take the unit down and take it outside to be pressure washed but no! They attached the power washer to my bathroom sink and that's when I walked out of the room.

I had this horrible thought that something bad was going to happen, my matress would be soaked, or he would spray the paint off the walls, something, and I didn't want to see whatever was going to happen, happen but no. Nothing bad happened at all. They had a tarp that they attached to the wall and everything drained into a bucket, a bucket that they brought with them!

For real, they brought their own equipment. Outstanding! I've never had that happen before! I've had to lend repair men screwdrivers and screwa and hammers and nails before.

The pressure washer did leave a bit of water on the floor and Mr. Joseph asked for a mop to mop it with. And he did, and he did a good and thorough job.

I can't say enough good things about this man. He and his buddy were quick, thorough, polite, good with the animals and patient and best of all our AC's are blowing good and cold with no leaks.

So yeah, give him a call if you need your AC's serviced.

The art of saying goodbye

2011-06-26T11:44:00.002+04:00

Being a "Western" expat isn't always good tax free salaries, cheap petrol, glamorous balls and fantastic bbq's, well...sometimes it is, but sometimes it's the hardest thing ever, especially when you have to say goodbye to your friends. I would honestly say it's the biggest downside to being an expat and something I didn't even consider before moving here.

Last August I said goodbye to one of the most awesome couples I knew and 2 of Cush and I's closet friends here in Oman.

I cried at The Chedi at their goodbye party and I'll tell you this, no one should ever cry at The Chedi. It just seems so wrong to be surrounded by beautifully landscaped water gardens and thoughtfully decorated, yet understated rooms with mascara running down one's face.

A few months later I said goodbye to another super awesome couple and cried at Costa Coffee in Shatti.

Then this last month with 2 farewell dinners looming I decided that I was not going to cry but instead get good and pissed and try to have a bit of a festive attitude to the whole thing.

At Pavo Real, 2 pina colada's had me giggling as I bade farewell to my friends, no tears in the parking lot as I hugged them goodbye.

And drinks at someones house party made us all a bit festive as we said see you later to S who will hopefully come back one day.

(this is just a small sampling, I've had to say goodbye to about 16 people in the last 3 and a half years and it sucked each and every time!)

The reason I can't do it sober anymore is because I will break down. I imagine that I will grab hold of my leaving friends ankles and beg them not to go, and that just makes things awkward, they already quit their job, sold their cars and furniture and have no place to live.

I think I hate goodbye's or even see you in awhile's so much because inevitably I always think I'll lose touch with the person and never hear from them again. It does happen.

The kind words and the promises to keep in touch break my heart every time, so much so that I end up just saying something super lame like, "ok" or "yep" in response to their heartfelt thank you for being my friend speeches and I end up feeling like a jerk.

If I could say what I wanted to say to my friends who have left but without all the tears and blubbering and snot and generally not being able to talk at all actually because of all the tears and blubbering and snot, I would say this:

Thank you for being my friend, thank you for hanging out with me and talking to me even when I'm so weird sometimes. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and hopes and plans with me, it's meant the world to me. I'm a better person for knowing you and having you in my life, for even just a short while, has made all the difference. I wish you nothing but the best and all the happiness the world can give you.

Maybe I should print this out and put it in a card and give it to them when they go.

So I guess if I had any advice to give for saying goodbye to a good friend, it would be the following:

-do go to the goodbye party/dinner/coffee/event because if you think it will be easier by not showing up, you will regret not going. Going and saying goodbye does offer a sort of closure which means you can move on and heal quicker.

-if you drink, have a drink to relax you, there's nothing like Dutch courage to be called upon in times of need. (if you don't drink, don't start, you don't want to have too much by accident and throw up on your friend when she hugs you for the last time!)

-be happy for your friend, moving on or going home is what most of us want to do at some point.

-don't play the guilt card, it isn't helpful and you do want the other person to remember you fondly, no?

-do send a last text message, it's just a nice thing to do when your friend is waiting around in Departures bored out of her mind.

-do not stop talking to people or trying to meet new people, it's not healthy.

-get in touch every so often, no one likes to be forgotten about and it's always nice to get a message back.

-make a plan to meet up in the future, go see where your friend lives or invite them to come see you, or meet up in some exotic location halfway.

And I guess that's it.

(To NC or NC's mom if either of you are reading this, first thanks NC's mom for reading and recommending, I appreciate it! and second I tried to email but it wouldn't go through, if you want to try emailing me at angryoman@gmail.com)

Move! Bitch, get out the way!

2011-06-18T10:05:00.004+04:00

I don't know if it's the heat or something in the water but lately I've noticed that people are really becoming impatient and downright dangerous again on the roads.

Didn't it seem like things were a bit calm traffic wise for a couple of months there?

Maybe I was just lucky but it seems my luck has run out and I'm all on the defensive again.

Defensive when I'm driving and defensive when I'm walking and I do walk a lot.

I'm one of those people who would rather park far away from the shop entrance and walk then circle around and around trying to get a closer space. And obviously I walk Jellybean a lot. She is a high energy girl.

But I notice when I walk that people in cars either don't see me or don't give a shit that I'm crossing the road or walking in the road because there's no sidewalks.

Like for example if I cross the street and a car turns the corner, I can literally hear them accelerate as they move towards me. Like, do you want to run me over? I don't get it. What if I tripped? Or what if I just spazed out and fell down?

Or if I'm at Lulu and I have to cross like 3 or 4 little roads in the parking lot and people just pretend they don't see you or are too lazy to turn their heads, I don't know what's going on in these peoples minds.

Or even when I see people crossing busy roads and no one will come to a complete stop to let the person cross. I know pedestrians don't exactly have the right of way here like they do in other more civilized countries but isn't there a moral code being broken?

It's hot outside, like really, really hot and people in cars have air conditioning and the poor person on the street corner trying to cross is literally baking in the heat so why can't the people in the cars see that and give the poor bastard a break?

I think that's what disappoints me the most, the selfishness of the AC'd car drivers. Most of the people walking around do so because they either can't afford a car, can't afford their license or can't afford a taxi, so why can't we all just give them the dignity of stopping to let them cross when we have a stop sign and are supposed to stop anyway? I say we, but I do, so really I mean you people, you people who probably won't read this anyway.

What also disappoints me is when you're crossing a street and you get about halfway and a car pulls up and even if you took 2 more steps they would hit you and so you then have to make an abrupt right turn to walk around the car which is now blocking your path and go behind it. I hate that so much!

I literally hate that the common view seems to be that if you aren't in a car, you are dirt, or maybe even you shouldn't exist.

One night at Rock Bottom...

2011-06-10T02:09:00.002+04:00

...I got into a fight.

Seriously, a physical altercation. I shoved and got shoved back.

You might be wondering what some bitch did for me to shove her....well it was dude. I shoved a dude and he shoved me right back.

So what did he do? Did he touch my bum? No. Did he dance too close to me? Nope. He picked a cat up by it's tail and kind of shook it a little.

It was disgusting. The poor cat had just be standing there minding it's own business. I was so mad I ran up to the douchbag and asked him what the fuck was the matter with him, he just stood there holding the cat and grinned at me so I shoved him.

I have never been physical with a stranger before, but I'll tell you this, I was shocked that he shoved me back. (Play "guess the nationality" all you want)

This seemed to outrage the girls I was with and 2 of them shoved him and he shoved them back and then some guy in a suit came over and broke it up and left it at that. The cat then went and laid down near a potted plant. Poor little thing.

Meanwhile Cush was was on his way there to come and get me since he had been out with the guys getting their drink on.

I went in the club and tried to dance but I just couldn't let it go. I can't even believe people are so cruel, especially to little creatures.

It was Ghandi who said, "The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." I firmly believe that.

Awhile later, I went back outside to get some air and the guy actually came back and stood near me, and I said, "don't you even look at me." And he tried to tell me some story about some Indians going in and the cat was going to go inside, but I saw the cat just standing there as I walked up so I knew it was bullshit.

Then Cush came up and to be quite honest I expected my man to give the guy a bollicking, so I told him what happened.

But Cush did no bollicking, he said a few things to the guy but no bollicking. I'm like married to Jesus. A very drunk Jesus who is now happily snoring away in bed.

I'm a bit disappointed to be honest. I was hoping for a bit of, "you never lay your hands on woman no matter what yadda yadda" but no...

And then we left and now I'm sitting here typing this because I just can't sleep.

I'm disgusted and disappointed, thoroughly.

So, while writing this it has occured to me that I totally have double standards. I am a great believer in equality and indeed liberation but for real I expect a man to keep his hands to himself no matter what I do to him, because honestly, I'm a woman. How fucked up is that? But that's really what I think and really I didn't shove him hard. I could see that if I was really going to town trying to hurt him then yes he should absolutely defend himself, but other then that, no way.

So yeah...just another Thursday night at Rock Bottom....

Any thoughts?

Going to Rock Bottom is literally hitting rock bottom

2011-05-10T14:52:00.002+04:00

So yeah I'm jumping on the repost bandwagon here, and re-posting Muscat Mutterings blog post about extensive brutality and racism at Rock Bottom night club. I have to say I've hated Rock Bottom night club for a long time now. It's a miserable place with a disgusting "signature" drink, jerks who control the door and dance floor, and arsehole patrons who have bad attitudes.

I've only had one really good night there which I think was a Friday and there was only maybe 25 patrons of which I was with a group of 10, and I knew the dj which was really only why we all went.

The other 3 or 4 times I've been have been a bit pointless and not fun and another 1 or 2 times my group was turned away because someone had flip flops on or didn't have a woman to go in with him or some other completely trivial reason which I suppose leads them to believe their nightclub has a bit of exclusivity.

I never feel easy or relaxed in there. The bouncers seem to have a lot of rules. I once got a talking to for taking a picture of my husband but a friend of ours took a picture of my husband though and he didn't get a talking to...Cush was on a bit of a stormer that night and was very picture worthy.

Anyway that's my 2 cents worth. I would rather go to the Safari Bar at the Hyatt because they always have a good band and an alright crowd, and honestly I've never had a bad time there.

You can read Muscat Mutterings post here if you missed the above link. It's quite shocking, or I guess it would be quite shocking of you have never been to Rock Bottom or heard anything about it.

The summer wives

2011-05-01T13:54:00.002+04:00

Every year when the weather gets hot and the kids are done school for the year there is a mass exodus of women and children from the Sultanate. These women return home to the more reasonable temperatures of their home countries to shop and feel normal for a couple months while their husbands stay behind and sweat it out.

And while the cats away the mice will play so they say....

It would seem that some, a few, a lot, who knows how many of the men who get left behind by their wives shack up with a "summer wife".

Summer wives tend to be filipino, perhaps because they are generally less demanding, nag less, are more laid back and more willing to have more adventurous sex then well...winter wives. That's what I hear anyway.

One thing I don't know how works is the whole arrangement. Are these women prostitues who get paid, or do they hang around for the perks? Weekend trips to other countries, shopping and just being "kept" for a little while, all sounds good to me to be honest.

And who are these men you might be asking, well they're the same guys you work with, or collegues of your husband or friends. These are the same guys you see out and about with their wives and kids at Al Fair on weekends picking up chicken on a stick and buns for a beach bbq at Seifa. They are the same guys who take their wives to dinner at Left Bank or O Sole Mio on "date night". They are the men who are bored and left behind.

And who are the women? I have no idea who these ladies are to be honest. I assume it's ones who work in shops and restaurants because I think they have more freedom then live-in housemaids.

But you have to marvel at the tenacity of these men who move another woman into their homes for a little fun, and also what the conversation at the end of summer sounds like.

And what if the summer wife becomes unhinged at the end of summer and doesn't want to give up her position? Does the man have to move house when his wife and kids come back?

Do the neighbours see all this going on and say nothing? Maybe here it's a bit different when it comes to the neighbours...I mean afterall how many of us actually socialize with the people next door or down the hall? Maybe people see and just assume it's the housemaid, or just mind their own business.

So ladies, as summer approaches will you be taking the kids and leaving? Will you be wondering what your husband is really up to when you're away? Do you trust him?

And men who take "summer wives" it's one thing to shag around, it's quite another to do so unprotected. If you respect your wife, your real wife, at all, keep her safe.

Bullies and jerks

2011-04-27T14:09:00.003+04:00

Well I suck. 3 weeks since my last post and that's really only why I'm writing something.

And to be honest I don't have much to write about, and I'm a bit short on time so here we are.

I've thought of a few things that I'd like to write about but they tend to be big topics and I haven't really thought them out yet.

So what's new....well not much actually just a lot of the same old stuff.

My friends (who used to live here but have moved back home) got married last week and from the pictures I've seen it looks like everything was fabulous on their special day. Congratulations to them!

Jellybean and I are still having issues when we go out for a walk. Sometimes I handle it ok and other times I cry about it when I get home. Yeah for real.

It's upsetting to constantly have children barking at us or kicking balls at us or whistling and just standing there saying things to me in Arabic and I don't understand them.

Ok here's what happened, I was walking with Jellybean and this kid (maybe 12 years old) kicked a ball so that it ricocheted off a wall and came flying at Jellybean and I. I managed to stop the ball with my leg and then the kid came over and gave me a stearn talking to in Arabic and then just stood there in front of me with his arms folded tight.

I had to ask him to move and I have no idea what he said, but it felt very threatening.

He could have been saying, "nice dog, where did you get it?" in a nasty tone of voice or it could have been something mean I really don't know. I just know how it made me feel, like I was 6 years old again and the school bully had chosen me as his target.

It's an awful feeling, but what am I going to do? Yell at children? Call the police on children? I'm going to be fucking 30 years old this year, I should know how to deal with this shit, no?

Well anyway I don't know how to deal with it, and I hate it.

I have made the decision to be brave about it though. I'm not going to stop walking my dog in my neighbourhood, and yeah I might not be Omani but it is my neighbourhood too. Having said that I'm looking forward to moving.

Oh yeah, I never said what happened about Cush and I moving.

Well, we asked our landlord if we could move and he said yes, even though we still had 6 months left on our contract. Then Cush asked for either the rent check back or proof of cancellation of the check so that it wouldn't be cashed, and he said no.

Then he said that he would cash the check if we didn't find people to move in within a couple of months.

So we aren't moving until our contract is done.

He's just being a jerk. All the AC's are on their way out and I would bet he wants them to break so we have to pay to replace them all the while he wants to raise the rent which he can do if we move out but he won't let us move out... He really is just being a jerk, like for the sake of being a jerk only.

And that's it.

These are the people in your neighbourhood...

2011-04-02T08:26:00.004+04:00

Actually this is a post about the people in mine, but I'm sure you can find these wacky oiks anywhere, and as I was thinking of writing this post, since about last week actually the theme song to Mr. Rogers Neighbourhood kept playing in my mind. I hadn't heard that song in 20 years, but then there it was. (it was a popular kids show when I was little, there was puppets and stuff)

So anyway, since I got Jellybean I've been taking her for walks, and if you read my last post I mentioned that people seem to get the impression that I want to chat with them, which I don't, but there is a whole slew of just completely crazy people here and they seem to all find me.

Where to start....

The buyer
As I was walking Jellybean a young man in his car stopped and asked if he could buy her from me. I asked if he was kidding and kept on walking, but I have this theory, and while it sounds completely narcissistic I think it's a valid theory. That if I would sell my dog, my wadi dog that I found in behind a dumpster, I would name my price to this man, who would not have the money at that moment and ask for my number to arrange payment and pickup. So really I think it was just a ploy to get my number.

The swimmer
One day I took Jellybean to the beach in the morning and there was a man walking towards us and he made a few hand gestures which was strange because he was walking alone. I turned around but no one was behind us, so he was obviously gesturing at me. Our conversation went like this:

Man - swim?
Me - no she doesn't swim (because I thought he was talking about Jellybean who was running away from the waves on the shore)
Man - no you teach me
Me - I'm not going to teach you
Man - but I just want to chat to you
Me - go away
Man - are you married?
Me - GO AWAY!

...and he did.

The stalker
There is an apartment building just down the street from me. It's not a big building with only a few units I think but it used to be a really nice building. Now groups of men live in maybe 2 of the units so it's run down with wires hanging everywhere and general disaray. Again, while walking Jellybean, a man said hello to me. I said said hi back and went about my business, not really paying too much attention.
The man said hi to me almost everytime I would go out and it started to seem wierd and when I would run into him I would get that sinking feeling in my chest.
Then one evening I was on our patio playing with Jellybean and I happened to look up and over and noticed a man standing on the patio of the run down building watching us.
That's when I started paying attention to the man who said hello to me and noticed that he is balding and when I saw the man on his patio watching us again I noticed he had the same bald spot. In the light of day I can see that he has a chair set up at the edge of his patio so that it faces our patio and he sits there often.
How gross is that?

Where do these men get the confidence? I blame their mothers who probably told them they were God's gift to humanity. Since I'm not a mother I obviously see a problem with telling little boys this, because this is what happens.

The nice neighbours with their douchebag friends
I have nice neighbours as it turns out. We enjoy a chat or 2 or 3 each week and they're super nice. They like Jellybean, Jellybean likes them, it's nice. So Cush and I have been invited over to their house a couple of times for bbq's and parties and whatever, but each time we go, their douchebag friends won't even talk to us. For real.
It's like to the point that Cush walked up to a group at a party and said, hi I'm Cush and someone turned their back on him without saying anything!
So Cush ended up talking to another man and I walked up and said hi and asked if he had any of the kids that were at the party.
He pointed out his kid and asked me which kid was mine.
Me - I don't have kids
Man - you MUST be working then
Me - why MUST I?
Man - you MUST be studying then
Me - why MUST I?
Man - well I can't even imagine how dull your life must be

I just walked away. That man made me feel like my life has no meaning or purpose. I felt so small and defeated.

I don't think my life is dull. I'm not saying that I think I lead the most important and fullfilled life ever but I do stuff, I have a life and it's full. I'm mostly happy...and whatever I don't need to justify myself. I know who I am.

The annoying
Yeah like any of the above wasn't annoying...but seriously there's all these teenage boys who shout and bark at Jellybean and I. It's horrible. I don't know what to do about this actually.

The petrified
One of the funniest things about having a dog is that some people are really scared of dogs. Ok that's not funny, some dogs are really scary, but Jellybean isn't one of those kinds of dogs. I've seen people cross the street in front of us, hide behind parked cars and throw their hands up and fear. I should mention that I keep Jellybean leashed and well under control.

One night a family in my building had a party and I was taking Jellybean upstairs after a walk (we walk a lot!) as some of the party guests were leaving. A woman came out into the hall, saw Jellybean, cried out, "oh my GOD!" ran back inside and slammed the door!

I almost died laughing. The poor woman...

This is the face of evil.

The house of no

2011-03-16T12:05:00.001+04:00

My happy house where once no one shouted, the cats lounged around out in the open and all our stuff was just layed out how it should be, is no longer the house of yes.

About a month ago my friend L and I were on our way back to my house after a walk when we spotted 2 puppies eating garbage around a bin in my neighbourhood.

We stopped and watched them for awhile and then went on.

Most days the next week I would stop by and feed them when I went past but then one day there was only one puppy left and she was very sad and depressed.

The next night I stopped by to feed her again and she would barely get excited and she wouldn't eat the food I put down.

My heart broke.

I went home and talked to Cush about it. We both love dogs (and cats!) and I've been wanting a dog for ages.

We both decided that yes, we would take the puppy.

We went out and bought some food and bowls and stopped by to pick her up on our way back home. But of course like any dog born on the street she didn't know what the car was, and her energy was lacking.

So I carried her home while Cush drove beside us.

As it so happened my parents were visiting and in bed when all this went down so they didn't know until the next morning. They were a bit surprised!

We took her to the vet and got a clean bill of health so that was good.

Then we had to name her. I wanted to name her after a good friend of mine who recently left the country to go back home for bigger and better things but someone told me that would be creepy.

So we decided to call her well...I'm not going to tell you because that's how I do things but on my blog she will be called Jellybean.

Jellybean is a sweetheart. She loves to cuddle and is interested in everything that's living. She loves all the housemaids and labourers in my neighbourhood to the point where she lays down in the road and refuses to move just so she can keep looking at them.

She loves children so much that I literally have to hold her back from jumping on them.

She loves ants and bees and flys.

She loves all the cats...but maybe she hates the cats...I don't know. I do know that McFluffin and Small Fry don't want to know her.

It's heartbreaking. Jellybean has quite a few battle scars on her nose and one frighteningly close to her eye.

I'm just trying to take it like the cats are teaching Jellybean about boundaries, and hopefully she doesn't lose an eye in the process.

I feel bad for the cats, Small Fry especially. She and I are usually inseperable when I'm home. If I'm sitting on the couch, she's on my lap. If I go to the loo, she comes along with me. If I go outside to garden, she's sitting on the patio table. If I'm cooking, she's sleeping on the kitchen floor or on top of the kitchen cabinets. And now, well I have to keep everyone seperate.

Jellybean and I have the livingroom, kitchen and patio and the cats have the 2 bedrooms, Cush's office, the other entertainment room and the servants room where we keep a freezer and their litter boxes.

Jellybean and I spend our days puttering around the house, running downstairs to "do our business" every 1-2 hours, sleeping (not me, I do research on the internet about dogs or run errands), training, walking and getting into trouble.

She's eaten a garden hose, the satellite remote, my new phone that I got for Christmas, Cush's speaker cables from his office, our friend's glasses and she's eaten from the litter box :( so gross!

So anyway, yeah we have a lot to work on. Our vet thinks she was about 3 and a half months old when we got her, give or take a few weeks, so for a (un)domesticated pet we're a bit behind in training and socialising.

Housebreaking has been really challenging. Everything I've read on the internet says that when your dog needs to "go" it will start sniffing the floor and walking in circles...Jellybean doesn't do that. Not even when we go outside to "go" or on a walk. We'll be walking along and then all of a sudden she'll drop her back end down...like out of no where.

So now I'm just trying to housebreak through time schedualing. We win a lot but we still lose a few.

Walking her is a challange, well more of a full body workout. I struggle to make her heel while she starts and stops, jolts, swerves, pulls and pushes me all over the place. I meanwhile attempt to keep us looking like I'm in charge, while I try to be in charge. My arms are going to be killer in no time!

And all the people on the street don't help either to be honest.

Last week I took Jellybean out to do her business and there were neighbourhood cats everywhere meowing and she was distracted. Finally all the cats went away but a man who was sitting in his car across the street started jingling his keys at her. Then she was distracted again.

People make kissy noises at us out their car windows, children bark at her and people just want to talk to me.

It's the strangest thing, like what? I have a dog and that means I want to talk to everyone?

Not to be rude but not really actually. I don't want to be accessable. I don't mind the housemaids having a chat, but I do not like the groups of men (young and old) who try and start conversations. Just fuck off. I just want to walk my dog in as much peace as possible.

I'm horrible, but that's how I feel.

So now it's like my vocabulary, which is usually quite extensive, has been reduced to "no", "off", "come", "outside", "sit", "do your business" and "good girl". Seriously that's all I say all day long.

And I feel bad. Here I have taken a wild animal, stuck a leash on her and dragged her around the neighbourhood. I say what she can eat and when, which means that I have to pull everything from chicken and fish bones to tea bags and kleenex out of her mouth when we walk. I say where she can do her business and when, I say what behaviours she can have...how awful is that?

I feel like a meanie. Yes I know I'm giving her a long and healthy life filled with people (and maybe someday cats) that will love her but I feel like a jerk!

Clarification and an apology

2011-03-01T12:06:00.003+04:00

ok maybe yesterday I got a bit carried away...

I said some things that while I believe them to be true for a minority of Omani's, it probably doesn't reflect the whole of the Omani people. But isn't that always the case?

I met a Pakistani man delivering flyers in my neighbourhood last week and we had a bit of a chat. He asked me where I was from and I said Canada, and he said he wanted to move there very badly. I said, yeah you and everyone else! Canada is the best!

He then told me about how English people hate Pakistani people because they think they are all terrorists.

I said wise words to this man, I said, "there are good and bad people everywhere"

Why did I lose all sense of this yesterday? There are good and bad people everywhere.

In England, in Pakistan, in Canada, in Oman...and like really, everywhere.

I do apologise for painting everyone with the same brush, that's not fair. I'm not saying that what I said wasn't in some circumstances true, it just wasn't fair for me to generialize.

I was talking about the people in Sohar who found it necessary to burn private property and trash public spaces.

I was talking about the jerks who caused millions of rials in damages and caused the deaths of 6 people. You have no one to blame but yourselves for those deaths, for if not for your violent actions those people would still be alive.

I doubt that I would have said anything if protests were left peaceful.

So Omani's, count your blessings, you've made progress, you were heard, I know a lot of you got some money deposited in your bank accounts, well done, and hopefully the other demands you made will be met as well, because quite frankly I don't want to hear of anything like this happening here again. I didn't like it.

It's much too strange for such a well mannered (except in your cars) group of people to turn well...crazy.

Actually maybe it all makes sense. It's always the quiet ones, they bottle everything up and then it comes out with a vengence.

So while I am proud of what you've achieved, I think it was gone about in the worst way possible, although, would anyone have listened otherwise?

Hopefully as a whole you will have more chances to have diologue with the people who run this country, and that they will actually listen to what the people want.

Protesters-you are spoiled brats.

2011-02-28T09:02:00.003+04:00

I literally have about 10 things I want to write about but I'm going to write about the protests because the whole thing is really rubbing me the wrong way.

I honestly think Omani's don't know how good they have it and have become a little spoiled. That is really, really how I feel. And I get that I'm an outsider here and have no idea what goes on inside other peoples houses (and bank accounts), but really, if these protests are about jobs, unemployment benefits (money from the government while you can't find work) and corruption, well I don't see what the problem is.

Omani's get their health care and education paid for and free land and as an Omani you have the opportunity to be business partners with anyone who needs one because expats can't just set up a business ...where else in the world would you get all that? All that just for being Omani. As a Canadian if I went and asked my government for some land and free education they would tell me to fuck off.

There are thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of jobs in Oman. And I'm being serious, there are thousands, hundreds of thousands of expats stealing jobs that you can do no matter what education you have, if you want them they are there you just have to be willing to work hard and maybe get your hands a little dirty.

I'm talking about cleaning, delivery and construction jobs.

The only problem with that is that most Omani's think they're above manual labour. So I guess being an unemployed bum sucking the government teet is better then actually working for a living no matter what the job is.

And since I'm going there, I may as well really go all the way with this....even when Omani's do have jobs, if they even show up to the office or wherever they do the bare minimum anyway.

Ok not all Omani's but a lot. All my friends and I have traded stories about Omani co-wokers who show up and take naps, or leave for hours, or come in only in the afternoons or just surf the internet or download porn (yeah for real, and wierd porn at that) or music. Some Omani's have jobs that they don't really know how to do or forgot how to do and so they just sit there and make their expat counter parts lives hell....and this is why expats typically make more money, because they are the ones actually working. (and I'm not talking living allowences, I mean flat out salary)

And Omani's can't be fired because...well because it's nearly impossible to.

So really I'm not sure that Omani's actually want jobs, I think they just want money. And now that the goverment is going to be giving you some, albeit a small amount I see the incentive to actually go looking for work shrinking. And I predict that next year will see more protests demanding a raise in unemployment beneifts because really 150 or /month isn't very much money.

And about corruption well...isn't that just the cost of doing business here? It's so ingrained in Omani society that I don't even think most Omani's realize how much there just is.

Bribery, extortion and abuse of power are common place. You can literally pay your way out of almost any bad situation you get yourself into and if you want something done, just pay for it, if you have the means.

I'm not going to type out all the crazy stories I've heard since I moved here about dodgy dealings and money but I've heard more then my fair share and I'm guessing anyone reading this who lives here has as well. Anyone from Ministers, the police, and just your average everyday Omani in a good job is on the take and they don't see it as being wrong.

So stop being the pot calling the kettle black.

Stop acting like thugs and spoiled babies. Stop the burning and yelling and vandelism, be fucking productive members of your society, come up with your own business ideas, hell steal other peoples business ideas and create compitition, go back to school, take a manual labour job and sort out your own life for YOURSELF instead of having your benevelent ruler doing it for you.

Think for god sake, use your heads not your fists.

Oh and stop covering your damn faces you look like fucking Al Qaeda suspects. If you're going to act all tough, be tough enough to show your face.

Losers...

Here's some sources and news articles-
http://lasiaf.posterous.com/lulu-sohar-at-this-very-moment-is-on-fire-28t pictures

http://globalvoicesonline.org/2011/02/26/oman-the-people-want-an-end-to-corruption/ this one has videos and stuff

http://english.aljazeera.net/news/middleeast/2011/02/2011227112850852905.html

http://ca.reuters.com/article/topNews/idCATRE71Q0U420110228

I sincerely doubt that the mothers and fathers and wives and brothers and sisters and children of the 6 dead would agree that any of this was worth it.

Sorry this is so anti-Omani but Omani's just don't know how good they have it, and how many opportunities are there just waiting for them, they have a mile and want an inch more, and they're doing it in the worst fucking way possible!

Why burn down Lulu? (that's a large grocery store comparable to Walmart and probably largest employer of Omani's in Sohar) You're just being bad and I think some of you got a taste for being bad the first time in your life and you like it and you're probably going to get away with it because the cops and the army aren't doing a damn thing to stop you, because apparently the Sultan, the man who gives you everything asked them not to. Well what a nice man he is. How dare you treat his country this way.

I can't even believe how upset I am...

Mawaleh Fruit and Vegetable Market

2011-02-05T11:43:00.004+04:00

Back in the good old days when Cush and I had a cool apartment in an interesting neighbourhood (Dundas West and Roncesvalles, if you've been, you know what I mean) in Toronto we used to go to the fruit and vegetable markets on our street. There wasn't just one or 2 markets but maybe 4 or 5.

We usually went to all of them to see which places had the best deals on what, and one of the markets was almost exclusively organic.

Also on our street were butchers, bakers, cheese shops, restaurants, bars, clothing shops (used and new), and since it was at one time a predominatly Polish neighbourhood there are still the Polish shops selling oom pah pah music and sweets you never heard of. It was always interesting, always lively and always my favourite way to spend a Saturday or Sunday afternoon.

Some days we could barely carry all our stuff back up the street, made even more difficult while trying to eat an icecream cone or popcicle.

So, now having lived here for 3 and a bit years I thought it was time we go check out the Mawaleh Fruit and Vegetable Market. (Click this link for a news article from the Oman Observer about the market and pictures, pictures are always handy, I should have taken some...)

Cush and I set off not really sure exactly how to get there or what were going to buy or what the deal was.

We found it easily enough by driving on the SQ highway to the Nizwa turnoff and then just follow the signs. There's 2 offramps for the market. The first one is for trucks, and the second is for cars.

As it so happens Cush and I have used both, the first time we went we took the truck offramp by accident, the second time we took the car offramp.

I'm not sure which one was worse because it was so busy and no where to park and nothing was very clear so we ended up the first time parking close to the actual fruit and veggies market hall and then got blocked in.

The actual market hall is an open sided building with a white tin (aluminium ?) roof.

The second time we took the 4x4 and parked a good 5-10 minute walk away but we saw more, like the little shops, which were a bit confusing, because they sold fruits and veggies as well but were not in the main market hall, obviously because we were on foot and people drive like wankers in there.

Ok so here's the deal. You can buy anything locally grown like lettuce, peppers, melons, herbs, radishes, cucumbers, Salalah bananas and stuff like that. They also have some imported things like grapes, strawberries, bananas (Philipines), pineapples and apples.

The problem I have is that while you get everything for an absolute steal (2 lbs of red seedless grapes for 1 OR, 2 boxes of strawberries for 1 OR, huge bags of fresh herbs for 300 bz, 3 lb bananas for 1 OR, etc) I don't know that I can consume all that before it goes off.

And while it is super cheap, the sellers do not want to barter, it's the only place I've ever been here where the prices are not listed but they won't negociate. Which is wierd because since we've moved here it's like expected that you barter.

And they all want to sell in bulk to get rid of everything which I understand but for the average consumer, unless you have a very large family (which a lot of Omani's do) or a restaurant, it's just too much. I can't see going there anymore.

And now that I know it's there, why do I see so many people bulk buying vegetables at LuLu when they could go to the market and get much more fresh, beautiful, unbruised, and cheaper fruits and veg. I don't get it.

So while I love the market, and the sellers calling out "madam! madam! cucumbers! radish! melon!" it's just not suitable for my little family of 2 (+2 cats who won't eat fresh mint and parsley.)

3 Frustrations

2011-01-22T12:27:00.005+04:00

2011 so far is off to a rocky start.

I keep finding myself in really infuriating situations and I can't decide if I'm being really unreasonable or if my frustrations are warrented.

Situation 1-
I was going to go for a walk in another neighbourhood a short drive away and came up to Wizarat Roundabout only to find that the police had closed the 3 major access points, while leaving 2 open.

Of course I was using one of the major points along with many other people but I happened to be close enough to the front to get a good look at what was all going on.

It seemed to be some sort of fundraising or awareness walk and pedestrians were coming out from the road that runs paralel to the SQ highway around the roundabout and back down the road again.

However, the walkers were all wearing Bank Muscat t-shirts and there was a Bank Muscat signboard up to the side.

I was very confused....is Bank Muscat the cause? The sponsor? What on earth was this walk for?

I sat there for 10 minutes while people behind me who couldn't see what was happening began to honk their horns, and you know, I thought too fucking right this is some BULLSHIT! and I honked too.

Then people in the back began to get smart and went around from the back and took the 2 non-closed off routes.

And the police just let them, some people went all the way around the roundabout going on the highway, or going on the route that the walkers were taking while almost running over the walkers, honking at them, etc.

That pissed me off. By now I had been sitting there for 15 minutes and the people just kept on coming.

I got out of the car, walked up to the nearest officer and said, " Sir, can you maybe stop the walkers for 1 minute to let some of the traffic through? I don't think it's fair that you have some cars sneaking through while everyone else sits here."

He gave me the *have patience* sign (hold your hand up, palm to the ceiling and close your fingers to make a point and shake it. This hand stance is also useful if you want to poke someones eyes out, just turn it over so the back of your hand is facing the ceiling and jab away! You're welcome ;)) and then walked away.

This was when I saw red. Literally. Everything went red. While I understand that I have both a short fuse and not a lot of patience, I really couldn't give a shit about this awareness walk/possible fundraiser for Bank Muscat (and if it was for something else then they should have had different t-shirts on) and how much patience does anyone have really?

I have a life to live, just like everyone else.

The cops then decided 5 or so minutes later to let the cars go, but there was still walkers in the roundabout and one of them was pushing a baby stroller and walking with a child...nice thinking. Ever hear of a detour route?

That's 20 minutes of my life just gone.

Situation 2-
I bought a juicer awhile ago and decided that I would do a sort of juice detox but really it was more of a list of juices to drink that help detoxify while you eat a healthy diet. So I went out in search of all the ingredients.

First stop-Carrefour. They didn't have everything I wanted so I just got some things. At the checkout I was stuck behind a store manager buying about 100 packs of steak which I suppose maybe he gets a discount or something and the correct amount has to be typed in with each purchase individually, which I guess the regular cashier can't do and the manager wouldn't go around to the other side to do the typing so he did it all upside down and wrong half the time. It was rediculous.

Second stop- LuLu, who had more variety but still not everything so I was in the checkout with all my stuff on the ringthrough belt when the computer stopped working.

The cashier didn't even look at me to say that it had stopped working, she just pretended like I didn't exist. I waited while she found a manager who kind of sauntered over while talking on his mobile, then he pushed a few buttons and walked away. But apparently it wasn't fixed because we still weren't moving.

I asked if I should go to another till but didn't even get a response from the woman. I actually had to get all like excuse me, yeah you, should I go to another till or not? Can you just let me know?

She shook her hand at me which I don't know what that means, I grabbed my stuff and went to another line.

But then I was stuck behind a woman who was buying at least 10 of everything in the store.

And she didn't didn't start to bag her own stuff even though it was piling up and spilling over, until I said, "hey, maybe you should start bagging your stuff there." She looked at me like I was crazy.

Maybe it was her first time to a supermarket but it was ridiculous! Then she would only use one hand because she had her purse in the other hand and there were no bag boys anywhere (actually I found them later sitting playing cards in the parking lot) and she even asked a security gaurd to help her but he said no. That's something.

My stuff on the other hand got checked through on the same side of the checkout as I was because the woman in front of me was still trying to bag all her stuff. I actually had to ask her to move aside to let me out because she was still bagging.

Next stop- Al Fair

I found the missing pieces I wanted except Kale and got in line. The man in front of me payed with a 50 but needed something else from somewhere or something and the cashier had to leave and go and get, maybe it was something like Saffron which they keep under a counter or something like that, but he came back 5 minutes later with the mans change.

Then can you even believe it? He had to change the register tape! By this point I had decided that I was on a hidden camera show and that I really didn't want to be on it.

Situation 3-
I have changed laundry places twice so far this year. The place in my neighbourhood, the man was rude to me.

I dropped shirts off and then I went back when he said to go back and he was like a petulent teenager, "ummmm tomorrow ok?" So then I went back and he looked at me blankly like he had no idea what I could ever be wanting from his shop. And I know how that sounds but I'm one of maybe 4 white families in my neighbourhood, and I was just there the day before and then 2 days before that! Plus your average Indian or Pakistani laundry guy will remember you and what laundry you brought in. Most of them have some sort of internal system like that.

I said, "Hi I'm here for my husband's shirts"

He picked up a pile and gave them to me. They were the wrong ones. He picked up another pile but again they were wrong.

He asked me how many but I hadn't counted because...well I would have thought this guy would have his business under control.

But seriously you can't miss Cush's shirts, they are some nice shirts. And hey, Cush is bigger then your average Indian, so I think these shirts should be in the forefront of his mind, they are distinctive.

We finally found them, there was 8 shirts in total, and if I had to iron 8 XL very nice shirts I would remember.

And the other place I used to go to lost Cush's shirts which I had just brought for ironing. I used to get his shirts all dry cleaned but then I thought that was a little silly considering they are mostly cotton and we don't need all the chemicals in his clothes, so I started washing them myself but I suck at ironing and Cush doesn't want to do it, so here we are.

I dropped off 11 shirts, said ironing only please! The man said ok, I said I'll come back in 2 days, he said ok and off I went.

I went back and said, "hi I'm here for my husbands shirts" but usually these guys just know me. I've been going there for years.

The guy looked a little confused and looked around but didn't find the shirts. Then I went in the back and started looking and couldn't find them.

And since these guys don't give you a slip or anything, like I said they just know you and your clothes typically, I started to panic, because like I said, Cush wears nice shirts. Some tailor made, some store bought, what have you.

I asked where the shirts were after we couldn't find them and the guy was like, I don't know, come back after 6.

I didn't want to be fobbed off like that because then I thought he's going to get rid of me and then when his co-worker comes in at 6 and I speak to him he'll have no idea what I'm talking about.

I asked if he could just call the other guy on the phone but he wouldn't.

I was so convinced they had given his shirts to someone else. So, so convinced.

All in all they sent the shirts off for cleaning and I was pissed. The guy kept laughing and that just made me more angry. "Why is this funny?" I asked him, and he just laughed harder.

I'm not going back to either laundry place.

Ok I feel better.

See... what had happened was....

2011-01-10T08:55:00.003+04:00

Ok so maybe there's a blog post missing. To me that post meant something, but to Cush it meant something entirely different so I took it down at his request.

If you missed it, basically Cush's mum and I had a really bad altercation and I wrote about it.

So, I haven't written in awhile. I've been busy trying to shed some stubborn December/early January weight gain (8lbs!), throwing Cush a surprise birthday party and trying to find us a place to live.

The weight gain I put down to a lot of drinking at parties, events and such (the worst thing you can do if you want to lose/do not want to gain), along with eating party/event food (the second worst thing you can do if you want to lose/do not want to gain) and then either being too sick with a cold to exercise or being to hungover to exercise.

It happens to the best of us.

All in all I've pledged to myself that I will get this under control and back down because lets just be honest I have a predisposition to being over weight and I don't want to be.

The surprise party went well, Cush was surprised and had no idea what I had been up to. I made a cake and everyone seemed to like it, which is always really good. I actually made 3 cakes and ruined 2 of them...

The amount of planning and lying that goes into a surprise party is a lot though. And if you can't lie well don't bother. I can lie very well it seems but I hate lying, and people who lie, generally.

First I had to act like I wasn't even thinking about his birthday with the odd question like, hey what do you want to do for your birthday?

Cush would say he didn't know what he wanted to do and what did I think? I'd shrug and say you're the birthday boy you tell me.

Then I had to invite people.

Then I had to make some food. Since I thought Cush would think it was odd that I had extra food in the house, I told him I had a catering job for a friend.

So the next step is to get the person out of the house. To do this you will generally need an accomplice.

My accomplice was supposed to take Cush to see Tron but Cush decided that he was going to go with another friend who was not on the "inside" of things earlier that week. That made things a bit more difficult.

My accomplice and I mulled over what on earth we could do to get Cush out of the house. Massages? "Too gay" my accomplice said.

How about bowling? "Can you bowl with only 2 people?"

Ok how about this (I was on to a winner!) you're having a crisis and you need to talk about for a really long time. "Yeah we don't really have that sort of relationship"

In the end my accomplice took Cush to get some new tweeters for his car (it's a sort of tiny speaker that catches the higher notes as opposed to a subwoofer that catches the deeper notes such as bass, I think).

But the guy didn't have any tweeters and basically the accomplice took Cush on a run around.

In the end it all worked out.

So...about looking for a place to live....we've met with an agent and checked out a few places.

1 Cush and I actually like but we thought it was a bit too expensive for us. The only thing I really didn't like about it was the bathrooms. They were very dark, just all dark tile on the walls and floors, and no counter space or cupboards.

Speaking of cupboards, why don't any places have closets?

Omani's wear a lot of, and pardon me, but dresses. Essentially it's dresses. Floor length dresses...you can't tell me you don't hang up your abayas and dishdashas. So where does everyone get their wardrobes from?

It's not like I can just pop down to Ikea any time I want, or maybe I can? I'm so confused! You can read about here and here on Muscat Mutterings.

What's the deal with Christmas anyway?

2010-12-24T13:45:00.001+04:00

Last year I needed to get some work done on my car and it just so happened that I picked it up on Christmas Eve during the day (December 24th) .

While I was waiting for my car to be brought around, 2 Omani men were talking to each other in Arabic and then they turned to me and one asked "is it a holy day for you today?"

It occured to me that like I don't really get Ramadan or Eid, they probably don't really get Christmas.

I said, "well kind of but really tomorrow is the big day."

The man asked, "what is it?"

Since I figure this is the case for a lot of Muslims (maybe, maybe not) because most Muslims are, well you know, pretty dedicated and most will not (I think) consider other religions or whatever, so I thought I'd break it down for you.

I'm not spreading Jesus propaganda or trying to convert anyone here, I'm just letting whoever wants to know what the deal with Christmas is and why there is a Christmas tree in almost every busy "Western" friendly frequented shopping place.

Here I go, keep in mind that I haven't studied the Bible (or even looked at one) since I was about 16 and this is my unresearched and unclarified version of events how I remember them, mostly through wearing sheeps costumes and standing at the back of the nativity scenes in grade school.

The story all begins with a nice young lady by the name of Mary. Mary got pregnant while still a virgin by God. (I don't think it was a sex thing.) God let her know that she was to be the mother of Christ and that a man, a carpenter in fact, called Joseph would hook her up with a wedding ring and take responsibility for her and the baby and thus save her for being stoned to death when her bump started to show.

Then Mary went to Joseph and told her what God had said and that they needed to get married. I think Joseph didn't really know what to make of the situation because he didn't know Mary, but he took her word for it, or maybe he had faith in the situation, or maybe he was just a kind man who wanted to help this lady out, or maybe he just liked Mary's style.

I think they did get married, but I couldn't say what sort of celebration they had. I wonder if they had wedding themes back then...

When it was time to have the baby they headed off to Bethlehem which is where Joseph was from because back then you had to have your baby in the fathers home town (Cush said it's because there was a census or something). For now we're saying Joseph was the father even though we all know that God is the real baby daddy.

They might have been heading to Jerusalem or somewhere interesting but maybe Mary got caught short and went into labour.

So it was on Christmas Eve, that Joseph and Mary stopped at an inn in Bethlehem and asked for a room. But there was no room at the inn. That's an important detail.

So Mary and Joseph went into the barn and made themselves comfortable and waited for the baby to come.

Meanwhile....there was a very, very bright and special star in the sky over Bethlehem that night and the 3 wise men knew that someone special was being born and so they went and followed the star and each of them brought a gift with them for the baby (Cush said they followed the star for months).

One gift was gold, another was myrrh and the last was frankenscense. These gifts would have been the equivelent to an i-phone, an x-box and a car these days, like really fantastic, amazing gifts.

So sometime on the 25th, Mary gives birth and named the baby Jesus (God might have told her to name him that). Since they're in a barn they put the baby in a manger which is what I think people used to put hay in for the animals, it's a sort of troph or something.

Why is it so important that there was no room at the inn and they put Jesus in an animal food troph? Well it shows that Christ came from a humble beginning.

So, every year we give each other gifts to celebrate Jesus' birthday and we also usually have a bit of a feast, turkey (or ham or both) usually, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and some veggies are typically on the menu.

Why do we decorate a pine tree? I don't know, because it's fun or because it's pretty (because it gives our cats something to destroy!?)? It's tradition either way, I think it's best not to question it actually.

Who is this Santa Claus guy? Well, I know this much, he's the guy who brings the presents. He lives at the North Pole (which I always took to mean he's Canadian) with Mrs. Claus (also Canadian) and his team of reindeer (Canadian obviously) who can fly. These flying reindeer are lead by Rudolph who has a red nose.

I'm not shitting you. This is seriously what the deal is.

So Santa and the reindeer fly all over the world and go down peoples chimneys and leave presents under the tree for the good children, but not the bad children, Santa always knows who's good and who's bad, in fact he makes a list about it. If there's no chimney then Santa jimmies the door or window open and gets in that way.

In return, families leave out cookies and milk for Santa to eat and drink and some carrots for the reindeer to eat.

We also tend to give to those less fortunate this time of year either through donating money to the Salvation Army, toys for children and food to the food banks so that everyone has the chance to have a good Christmas.

So that's Christmas. A lot of really doesn't have much to do with Jesus anymore for a lot of people but alternatively a lot of people do pick this as the time of year to go to church. And I do have to say that while I dislike organized religion (mostly because I think it brings out a lot of bad in people, sexism, judging and whatnot) I do like Catholic churches at Christmas.

There is usually a nativity scene (which looks like what the barn in Bethlehem would have looked like on the night Jesus was born only Mary never looks like she just had a baby, she looks very beautiful and glamerous and usually like a white woman although she obviously would not have been white, Jesus is laying in the troph all pink and glowing, the wise men are there hanging around in the background and Joseph looks dottingly down onto Jesus like a proud papa), and 4 candles that stand in a wreath called an advent wreath I think and one candle is lit for every week during December (I think), usually there are some poinsettias (red Christmas flowers, very poisonous to cats)...

Obviously when I picked up my car from the shop last year I just said something like, our guy Jesus, like your guy Mohammed was born and that's why we celebrate.

They nodded like, yeah, and I paid and went about my day.

Questions? Comments? Corrections? (Cush already told me I was wrong about a few things)

Merry Christmas everyone!

When a hangover lasts 2 days....

2010-12-20T11:57:00.002+04:00

...you know it was a bloody good night out!

Cush and I had a really fantastic time at the Bryan Adams concert, like a really, really fantastic time.

I sang and danced and waved my Canada flag all night long.

Thankfully, things only went downhill when we got in the cab to leave, then when I got home I felt sick and spent a long time laying naked on the bathroom floor...I'll spare you all the gory details.

The next day, yesterday, I felt rotton. I spent most of the day in the bathtub reading, or on the couch watching tv.

When I came out into the tv the first time yesterday I noticed that Small Fry had seemed to attempt to climb the Christmas tree and it had toppled over and all the ornaments were scattered through out the room. Some of them broken.

I've never had such a distructive cat and the worst bit was that I felt too delicate to bend over and clean everything up.

My friend J who I had been texting with suggested I get some greasy food in me so I ordered a pizza from Papa John's, pepperoni (beef pepperoni that is), nothing fancy. The man on the phone said it would be an hour and 10 minutes. I said fine.

Can you believe the pizza took 2 HOURS?! 2 fucking hours for fucking pizza! 1 pizza.

I can't understand for the life of me how it could take so long. I literally could have walked there, ordered it, waited for it and walked home with it in less time....could have were I not so hungover, that is.

This would never happen in Canada. In fact most places in Canada have a if-you-don't-get-it-in-an-hour-it's-free policy. I can see why they don't have that here. They would be bankrupt in days.

So today I'm still taking it easy but I need to get a move on for the Christmas cookies I'm baking for our neighbours and such.

One other big piece of news is that we're giving notice on our flat today. We're moving :) Where, we have no idea! We're out of control!

If I don't get another chance to write, Merry Christmas everyone!

Touristy things

2010-12-14T14:09:00.000+04:00

Lots of stuff has been going on lately. I've been insanely busy and often wonder how I would have time to fit in a job if I could manage to find myself one.

Last week my brother in law came for his first visit to Oman, and he really enjoyed himself.

He didn't have a lot of time to spend in Oman before we went to Dubai for 5 days for the Dubai 7's so we had to cram the-best-of-Oman-highlights-tour into 3 days.

Ok it was not possible, we did manage some stuff with the jet lag sleep ins, the Queen's visit and road closures, me having car problems and having to get it fixed again (!) and Cush being very busy at work setting us back.

Nakhal Fort unfortunatly took a whole day because, well, I got lost. I had only been to Nakhal Fort once with Cush maybe 2 years ago and all I could remember was that it was in the middle of a thousand palm trees and on a hill.

I checked out the map and saw that the way to Nakhal was to go to Barka roundabout and turn left and then just drive down that road.

I checked on the Ministry of Tourism website but there were no directions there. I checked in the Oman Residence Guide but no directions there either.

I decided that we would just head out anyway because how hard could it be to find, Nakhal Fort is huge!

Besides, the Ministry of Tourism has been adding brown signs to sides of roads advertising tourist destinations so I figured it would be no problem...so of course having my luck, it was a problem.

As we drove to Nakhal I saw a brown road sign for a fort pointing in on the right hand side. I didn't catch the name of the fort but it didn't say "Nakhal" but I figured maybe the name on the sign was the proper Arabic name. Wrong again.

We ended up at some random fort that hadn't even been restored. It was covered in lizzards and there was even a dead bird up in a tower.

I drove around for about an hour and a half before Cush texted to see how we were getting on. I texted back to say we couldn't find it, Cush texted again to say that all he remembered was that it was on the left hand side of the road.

Sure enough it was on the left side of the road, and there was no handy brown sign pointing us in the right direction.

We did our tour and my brother in law really enjoyed himself, and he didn't seem to mind that I drove us around lost for a few hours up and down the same 3 or 4 streets in the village on the other side of the road, saying over and over, "I know it's around here somewhere. There really is a fort. I've been there before!"

The next day we went to wadi Shab and the sink hole with Cush and we had a lot of fun.

For those who don't know wadi Shab is a really cool wadi that you hike up and then at the end you swim under a rock through a cave and into an cavern that is half full of water and really fun to swim in...apparently.

I'm not a fan of swimming in untreated water and creepy crawlies and stuff so I stayed out and read a book while Cush and Brother-in-law swam.

Then we went to the sink hole and had a bbq. While we were there some random guy walked up and asked us for food. It wasn't cooked yet so we said come back in 20 minutes but he just stood there.

After about 10 minutes of him just standing there he finally lost interest and went away but then he didn't back for the food we had set aside for him. So wierd.

The next day we had planned to go to the Grand Mosque (Cush and I have never been) but time got away from us and we headed off to Dubai.

In between all this we did manage to go to the souk although it was so late by the time we got there that all the shops had closed, and we did the drive from the souk around old Muscat to the Sultan's palace and then through and up to Ruwi and back.

Oman really is a neat place to take people around, I always forget that because I live here and we don't do the touristy things anymore but I always enjoy myself.

Next week is the Bryan Adams concert and I'm super excited! I seriously can't wait.

Also next week, my in laws are coming for a visit and I'm feeling a bit of stress about it to be honest. We don't necessarily get along very well so we'll see how that goes!

Because we could all use a giggle....

2010-11-28T12:10:00.000+04:00

I know I can!

Jeez I've had the worst last few weeks ever, at one point I literally thought I was terminally ill. For real. More on that another day maybe. At another point I thought I had caused a death and was severely distraught. I'll save that tale for another day too maybe.

But for right now I want to laugh, and I laugh not because he's a skinny Indian kid singing badly with his wicked accent but because I wish I could be like this guy. I wish I could just let it all out and not give a shit, just be all topless and rubbing lotion on myself while singing on webcam... I'm sure some of you have seen this before but for those who haven't no worries it doesn't turn into a wierd masturbation video even though it looks like it just might!

Awesome..pure awesome.

Here's another one worth a bit of a giggle but for entirely different reasons. This is truly how some people live I guess.
It's almost like a fairy tale because of the contrast of good and evil and an unbelievable cast of characters.

Those poor fuckers.

And if you love Glee like I do, or if you've never seen it I guess, maybe you will this funny anyway and maybe start watching the show because it's really good :)

Flat out sucks.

2010-11-21T13:03:00.004+04:00

I need to move.

Actually I need Cush, McFluffin, Small Fry and I to move. So far just to another flat, we're not yet ready to leave Oman.

I'm trying to be positive but I think this may turn into an old fashion AIO rant...it may not, see I never know until I start and then there it is, I'm dropping f bombs and stuff.

Here's the situation.

There is a leaky water tank on our roof. It's been leaking for 2 weeks, the house boy (yeah boy, he's made my shitlist this week) has known about it since we noticed it, and has done nothing.

The water is coming through into the ceiling in our hallway but is not yet dripping onto the floor. I don't know who's water tank it is but I'm hoping it's not ours because I think our water bill is going to be really high this month because the hot water tank in our ensuite has exploded and water leaks out everytime we turn it on to have a shower.

Apparently it's a common thing to have your hot water tank explode because we've had our en suite one replaced 3 times in 3 years, the guest bedroom en suite replaced twice (and the current one is not really working) and oddly the one in our servents room (which we have no need for) replaced once.

The houseboy has been made aware of all these things and keeps saying the plumber will come Saturday, then Sunday, then maybe next Saturday, and then he says that Cush needs to call the landlord.

Cush has tried calling the landlord but he won't answer his phone, and we don't even know why we're supposed to be calling him.

I can't take it anymore. I really can't.

The real bullshit of it is that we just paid our 6 months, and even then I don't really know how people move here.

We have to pay 6 months (or a year) in advance, but then have to give 3 (or 4) months notice to move and then we have to find a place that will be available in 3 or 4 months and then come up with another 6 months (or a year) rent in advance.

The thing is that I don't want less then what we have now.

We have a 3 bedroom, 3 ensuite, 2 WC, 2 walk in closets, a nice living room, another entertainment room, huge storage area, and a very large terrace and all for the low, low price of 600 OR/month, which is a bit of a bargain in terms of what a lot of people we know pay, but is actually only what we can comfortably afford.

And you know, I bet this flat was really, really fancy like 10-15 years ago but I don't think it's been touched since.

The thought of moving is actually a bit scary too. I don't know where I would want to move to.

There's positives and negatives for everywhere, isn't there? Crime, wierdos, goats that might try to eat your car, unruly children (boys) that drive around at all hours of the night on scooters...

At least with where we live now I know exactly what the score is...no..I was about to get confortable for a second.

This is not ok at all to have all these leaks and whatnots going on. What the hell?

Does everyone live like this? Because sometimes it seems like Cush and I are just cursed. For real.

PS. Happy Eid everyone, hope you all had a nice break :)

Zumba!

2010-11-07T11:35:00.002+04:00

The last time I was back in Canada I fell in love...no I became obsessed with Zumba (**I'll explain what this is at the end if you don't know but escentially it's areobic dancing and super fun and awesome). While I was there I was only able to attend 5 classes but that was enough to get me hooked. Hooked!

When I got back I immediately started looking for where I could do Zumba in Muscat and through looking on the internet (useless as of September anyway) and talking to people who might have talked to other people who might maybe know where there was some Zumba classes I found some.

I went to the gym and checked it out. It was clean and offered some other classes as well. The cost per class is 3 OR. While 3 OR doesn't sound like very much to put things into perspective my classes in Canada cost $4 which is 1.5 OR.

I went to my first class in Muscat the very same week and was super excited.

I wondered if the songs would be the same, if we would do the same moves, if it would be totally awesome like it was in Canada.

My hopes and expectations were high.

I got there 10 minutes early so that I could pay for my class and maybe talk to some of the other women and whatnot, but it wasn't as social as I thought it might be.

As the starting time for the class approached and there were about 5 women all standing around the instructor came and said that we would be waiting another 10 minutes for women who might be late. What about the 5 of us who are on time? That's not particularly fair, I don't think.

So more standing around waiting and some more women did trickle in and the class got quite full.

We started dancing and it was fun, but it wasn't as fast paced and the moves were very hippy instead of full body movement which is what Zumba is technically supposed to be about. It's supposed to be full body toning through dance.

And while it's fun to try something new, I think that Western people have some issues with hip movement because all our dances are mostly leg and arm based, examples: ballroom, disco, line, ballet, the hokey pokey, etc.

Which is why, for me anyway it was so frustrating to be corrected by the instructor about a thousand times. Ok it wasn't that many but like come on, I'm not Latina, Philipina, Indian or anyone else who would be used to bellydancing and hip rolling. It's so unnatural for ...I don't want to generize and say white people...but yeah, I guess white people...unless their profession is dancing but then that takes years of learning and practice.

Back to the class, it ended at about 45 minutes and I was expecting a full hour so I was bit disappointed about that.

I thought maybe it would only go 45 minutes that first class because we started late and I think there was another class starting shortly after Zumba ended, but I've been a few times and it was the same.

Speaking of samey-ness Waka Waka by Shakira...my lord. There are so many great Zumba songs out there, why is this the one we have to practice (yeah practice like we'll be preforming it on November 18th for the Sultan) 10 times in one session? In Canada my class did Waka Waka by Shakira every class but only once and then we would move on to different songs.

Alright. So it was fun but not as much fun as it was in Canada and so I'm not sure that I'll go again. I've heard there's other gyms that do Zumba, like Horizon in Azaiba, Fit Body in Shatti and there's rumours of classes at PDO but I'm guessing you have to be a PDO member to go to them.

I'd still recommend that you go just to check it out if you're a woman (it's usually ladies only here) because it is fun and maybe if I hadn't had such a wicked Zumba experience in Canada I wouldn't be so spoiled and ruined for all other Zumba classes for the rest of my life.

I'm being dramatic! and yet I'm serious at the same time.

** What is Zumba other then areobic dancing, it's dance that incorporates Latin, African, Hip Hop, Salsa, Belly dancing, and all kinds of cool stuff. It's supposed to tone the body all over while having a really fun time dancing.

Here's a video-

It's easier then it looks :)

What a day!

2010-10-26T19:12:00.000+04:00

Alright I had one of those really crazy days yesterday where after awhile you start thinking you just should have stayed in bed, or at least in your home.

I started out by going to get my car washed and Cush's laundry from the cleaner. When I got to my car I looked over at the very pathetic looking Hardcore 4x4 which had been sitting for a good long while. It was covered in dust, bits of tree and paw prints so I decided to get it washed when I got back....if I could get it to start and if the family of cats that sometimes live under the hood weren't there or could be persuaded to leave.

I got back, brought the laundry upstairs, changed my shoes because I cannot drive the beast with flip flops on, grabbed the keys and went back out.

I had the same silent conversation with the Hardcore 4x4 that I always do before I attempt to do anything with it.

-Alright 4x4...you don't like me and I don't like you nor do I trust you but we are going to get this done. Please, please don't die on the side of a busy road.

I opened the door and pulled the hood latch open so that I could check for cats (I'm not joking) living in the engine.

I popped the hood and climbed up on the front bull bars (I think it's called) and took a good look. I didn't see any cats but when I climbed down I heard a meow come from under the the 4x4.

It wasn't a cat living in the car but rather just one that happened to be chilling out in the shade.

I gave it some food to get it out from under the car and then climbed in.

Even though I thought we had had the seat fixed it turns out that it's broken again. I reached down, grabbed the handle, dug my ass into the seat and my feet into the floor and pulled with all my might. After giving it some grunt it slid all the way forward but then I couldn't push it back again. Luckily I'm short and it was only an inch or so too close to the wheel.

I stuck the key in and turned it.

The 4x4 only hesitated slightly, as if to say, who me? before springing to life.

I thought it would be wise to drive it around the block a few times just in case it was going to die and then headed off to the car wash.

The man who is sometimes very pleasent and jokey with me and also sometimes very brusque and annoyed with me greated me with a smile because hadn't he just seen me 20 minutes before?

I smiled back because I found it funny that only 20 minutes ago I was driving my very nice VW and then I came back with my ~~piece of crap~~ awesome but very dirty 4x4.

As he could see that the car wash would have it's work cut out for it, he grabbed the power washer and started to spray the 4x4 down. As it turns out the 4x4 is no longer water proof and I got soaked even though the windows were closed.

I made gestures like hey stop it! the waters coming in! which I guess must have just looked like me waving or something because the man just smiled and kept on spraying.

Eventually he stopped and I opened the window and said that the windows leaked and he grabbed a cloth and wiped down the inside of my window.

I pulled into the car wash and went through no problems aside from water coming in.

Since she was running so well I decided that I would take her for a run out to the Wave roundabout and back.

I was going no problems until I drove over a pot hole and the hood popped up. Not all the way up mind you it was still latched but I could see that the wind was catching it and it was floating and it really freaked me out.

All I could think was that the hood was going to come flying up and I wouldn't be able to see where I was going. The road is still under construction so there's no shoulder in places and there were no more off ramps until the Wave roundabout.

It seemed a bit funny though that usually I'm very anti going under the speed limit but here I was like so many I'd seen before- too close to the steering wheel, white knuckled, looking terrified and doing 80 on a 100 km/h...

I pulled into the Wave and called Cush to see how I could fix this...I was thinking I would have to get a bungee cord and crawl underneath and somehow strap things together, but no, really I just had to push the hood release back in from above the clutch pedal! Oh man all that worry for nothing. But while I was on the phone with him he invited me out to lunch.

I had nothing better to do and I really like my husband's company so I said yes.

I went home, cleaned up (because just setting foot into the 4x4 somehow makes you dirty), got ready and headed out in my car to meet Cush in Shatti. On the way I was a car behind a car that had very obviously had a bad car accident and was a bit timid and driving slowly, the car behind that car was the kind of impatient guy who tailgates and causes unnecessary stress on an already scared shitless driver.

Me being me, left a fair amount of stopping distance, because I don't want to be the asshole who tailgates a tailgater and gets into a 3 car accident because ...well anyway it would be a 4 car accident because I had some impatient asshole tailgating me as well.

So I did what I usually do, I brake checked him just a little to say hey, back off please because you never know if I have to slam on my brakes for real.

Usually this works like a charm. This time it didn't.

The guy actually passed me on the hard shoulder while doing 60 km/h, pulled right back in front of me by less then a foot and then brake checked me! Can you even fucking believe that?

This shoulder as you might know is under construction all the was from Boushar Police Station to ...like the roundabout just past the Opera House.

I was completely shaken and decided that this time I wasn't going to take it.

I met up with Cush and told him what had happened and that I wanted to to go the police about it.

He said he would check with an Omani friend about the process and whatnot. Luckily our Omani friend got right back to us and said to go for it if that's what I wanted to do. (thanks by the way :) )

We ate lunch and I headed off to the cop shop and told them what had happened.

I was super surprised that they took me so seriously because back home I'm not sure that they would have the time to deal with it.

The ROP looked up the phone number attached to the license plate and called the man who spoke Arabic, and they had a chat. Then the ROP told me to speak to the man.

I was shocked...like seriously, I have to talk to the bugger who could have potientially, seriously harmed me? What on earth would I say that wouldn't get me into trouble? And I don't speak Arabic, so...what's going to be the point?

Also, I'm not actually good at confrontation, I can bitch and complain and moan like the rest of them but to say it to someones face well I guess I'm a bit of a coward because I just can't.

Then the ROP said it was the English speaking sponsor on the phone so that made it a both a bit easier and a bit harder because on the one hand you want to say, hey fuck you for being so wreckless with my life, and other the other hand there's no sense in telling someone else off for what happened. That's not fair either.

So I spoke to the man on the phone and he told me that the man driving the car was ...get this! his driver!

I couldn't believe it! This man is entrusted to drive OTHER people around! Hilarious! I wanted to suggest he train a chimp to drive instead.

We actually had a very civilised conversation that I'm not sure would have been the same if the ROP officer wasn't sitting beside me.

Then again like I said...it wasn't man I was actually speaking to at fault, so really it wouldn't be fair to be all classic Angry In Oman on him.

So...to all those drive like their cars like they stole them you better watch the fuck out that you aren't in front of me, behind me or beside me because I really have nothing better to do then to go to the ROP and report you, and I seriously encourage others to do the same. It really only took 15 minutes tops.

Miserable people

2010-10-24T13:47:00.004+04:00

Ever come back to work from a long vacation only to find that your desk is piled high with paperwork?

That's how I feel right now, I have quite a few things I want to write about but I'm not sure where to begin.

At the same time I feel like none of it would be very interesting or worth reading.

When I first started writing I never worried or cared about what my content would be but now people seem to be so happy that I'm back that I don't want to let anyone down.

Well ok, there's people who will write strange comments on a blog no matter what it's about, thanks Ahmed...keep working on that English buddy, you are doing great!
(Check out the comments on my last post if you're curious)

Ah here's what I can write about.

I have decided that I'm going to take a more positive stance in life. Yes I have, and I decided this after one night spent at a bar which I'm a regular of sorts. I had a conversation with a friend, a good friend about how bands have 1 really great album/cd/(what do we call them now that we get music mostly in mp3 format?), make tonnes of money and then everything they do after that is not as good and/or comeplete garbage. I feel this way about The Killers....Hot Fuss changed my life and everything else they've put out since has just made me shake my head in sadness.

I came up with some great bands/artists and my good friend kept saying no. He was very set in his opinion even though I kept throwing names out which I thought met the criteria.

Lets take The Beastie Boys for example. Pollywog Stew their first real release sucked, I think, but I don't like punk, well I like some punk...but then they came out with Licensed to Ill which was completely awesome. Set aside Paul's Boutique and that other one, Ill Communication was also very good, and then of course Hello Nasty, because who didn't like Intergalactic? Intergalactic was everything that was needed in the post grunge late 1990's.

And who could argue that The Red Hot Chili Peppers are still awesome?

All that aside, we talked to some other people and there was this guy who didn't have one good thing to say about anything. He was all complaining about something and the conversation just made me want to give up on life.

It was terrible, I haven't felt so low in a long time. I don't want to be that person.

After that night, I think I realized how just depressing it was to be around people who have nothing good to say about anything.

Then again, even when I'm down about stuff I always try and see the bright side or be optimistic about the possible outcome of a situation and that isn't particularly helpful either, and sometimes other people don't want to hear it.

You can't be too negative or you will just attract like minded miserable fuckers, and you con't be too positive or you will attract all the Suzy Sunshines and then what do you talk about? How fantastic everything is?

And just to point out the miserable fuckers really don't seem to like it when you get all Suzy Sunshine on them, but what are you supposed to do when you have a pretty great day and then get confronted with a miserable fucker?

On one hand they don't seem to want cheering up and when you're in a great mood you don't necessarily want to talk to suicide walking.

So I guess misery liking company is true but what does that make happiness? It lies within? Strange huh?

I feel like I just mind fucked myself.

And just because I can, check out this video, it's fun :)

It's been awhile...

2010-10-16T12:49:00.004+04:00

Hello, I'm Angry In Oman.

Some of you might remember me from blogs such as this one circa July 2008 -March 2010 and a single guest post on Muscat Mutterings...

A lot of time has passed since I last wrote anything. A lot more time has passed since I wrote anything original or interesting or valid but here I am, seeing about making some sort of comeback. Maybe.

I figured out a few things since my last post.

I learned that my parents were reading my blog after a certain someone (Cush) left a link to my blog up on my parents computer when I was home in February which made things a bit awkward since the way I write wouldn't make too many parents proud I don't think. Where DID I get this potty mouth and large lack of tolerance????

I also learned who emailed my picture to members of the media - thanks, you are a cunt.
(sorry mom and dad this is why I don't want you reading this. I need to be able to call certain people mean names and not feel like you're standing looking over my shoulder which I am totally feeling right now, even though I'm only writing this and you haven't read it yet)

I learned that at almost 30 you can still do the same socially retarded things you did at 16 and never learn from making the same mistakes.

I learned that people, even people who you are super close to and really good friends with will still flake out on you and probably not even realize that they do it.

I learned that people love secrets, rumours and lies, and that some people take a perverse joy in spreading them. Don't get me wrong, I indulge as well but I think there's a big difference in chatting about someone when they aren't around and out and out scandelously defaming them to other people. Especially when they don't know that you're an acquaintance of that defamed person and/or a once quaisi famous angry and opinionated blogger that might just name and shame them.... if I hadn't been drinking and could remember their names. Bastards.

I learned that Small Fry is the most devoted little friend I could ever ask for. Since my last trip home, where I stayed for almost a month, she has barely left me alone. I end up flinging her across rooms and down hallways with my feet by accident just because she is so eager to be going somewhere with me or maybe she's just trying to prevent me from leaving again.

The single most important lesson I've learned in the past few months is one that I will never forget, and I strongly urge you all to take this to heart. Seriously, never pee on a foot path. The next thing you know some random man bringing water to his family will have seen your bits and you may just be a bit scarred for life. True story.

I guess that's all I have for now.

The fame

2010-04-10T15:37:00.003+04:00

This weekend I was faced with a situation...

A woman I know causally came up to me and said "so and so told me you're Angry In Oman, I've read your blog, loved the post about the nipples, I almost died! How long have been blogging for?"

It was quite a shock.

I answered her questions, talked about my blog for a bit and then I confronted the woman who told her (who I hadn't told), who told me a not so close anymore friend of mine told her...

The night went on and since I wasn't feeling so well from a fall in the shower (my back is now slightly black and blue in spots and I wasn't even drunk!) on the previous day, I left early. Cush stayed behind and a woman who was sitting at a different table then us come up to him and said "I heard you're Angry In Oman's husband!"

Jeebers....word sure did travel that night!

This of course is not the first time people have unexpectedly come up to me but I have to say it catches me off guard every single time.

Of course I have told people about my blog, people who I've known awhile and people who I know like me for me despite my potty mouth, outlandish opinions and being slightly neurotic in general.

But man....I have to say it feels weird, I'm shy and quiet really, and to be honest I'm not proud of a lot of things I've said.

I think I've hurt a lot of peoples feelings by having such an honest blog and that sucks. I'm not apologizing for anything because I haven't lied, I haven't embellished, I haven't fabricated but it still sucks to have people upset by my words and I guess I feel a little ashamed of myself.

I really don't know how to handle this going forward, should I just be out about it?

Lately, I've been thinking of closing my blog, or maybe starting another blog or something.

I'm probably over reacting, all the reactions I've had have been very positive, I'm actually surprised that no one has punched me or called me mean names yet.

All things to consider when you start an "anonymous" blog I suppose....

And just so we're clear, no I'm not mad at anyone, that's the way life goes isn't it? I guess if I really didn't want anyone to know I wouldn't have told anyone or met up with the people who have contacted me looking for friendship.

The Haunted House of Muscat

2010-04-05T11:03:00.003+04:00

When I first moved here I was talking with a woman who I had just met, I would say that she was the first friend I ever made in Muscat, and she mentioned to me about the haunted house.

I asked her what she was talking about because I was just fresh off the plane and had no idea and she said the house opposite Shining Shatti, now Bareeq Al Shatti.

I can't remember for the life of me why the house was brought up, what we were talking about or anything, I just remember her saying there was a haunted house. I was immediately interested and checked out the house each and every time I drove by it. You could say that I am in fact stalking this house in particular.

After I drove past the house and looked at it, knowing now that people thought it was haunted I remember that I had looked at it before and thought that it was an odd looking house for this part of the world.

It has no balconies, no fancy screening, the windows are not reflective like most houses, as in you can see the curtains through the windows, it's perfectly symmetrical on all sides, and it stands alone.
A few nights ago I was at dinner with some friends who happened to have a friend visiting from Asia who had lived in Muscat for 11 years and seemed to know everything about everything and was willing to dish.

After some time and some chit chat, the haunted house was mentioned by one of the ladies.

Since I had been stalking the house for 2 years, I asked for the low down.

Apparently, the house was built on a cemetery (which seems like you're asking for trouble if I remember my horror movies correctly), the owners do not live there, they have moved to another country and when they do come home to visit, they stay at the Intercon because they cannot bear to be in their own home.

I know that the house does not sit empty because I have seen lights on inside the house, and I have seen the curtains in different positions, presumably they employ caretakers or rent the house out.

Now if it were me who had built a house on sacred, perhaps special ground, depending on your view of things, and it turned out not to be in my favour, and I couldn't sell the house because everyone knows about it's reputation, I might be inclined to turn it into a touristy-stay-in-a- haunted-house-for-a-night thing or I might just burn it to the ground, ask forgiveness from the spirits and move on.
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Post note:having just Googled *Muscat's haunted house* I found this blog post from the ultra religious Andy In Oman (his name is like my name!), warning his post contains Bible-ish things, and if you read the comments, Muscati (whose blog I won't link to because he doesn't write one anymore) who also seems to know everything about everything has set the story straight.

So - who is to be believed? Both seem very credible.

Muscato MIA and things typical of Muscat

2010-03-29T12:09:00.007+04:00

Other then Muscato, of (Cafe Muscato blog fame) disappearing without so much as a toodle-loo a lot has been going on here in Muscat.

But speaking of Muscato for a moment, he has a right to just bugger off for 2 weeks, but it seems a little abrupt...I mean really the man is a blogging legend with a 3-4 posts a day habit.

I do sincerely hope that the man I saw having a chat with the police at Shatti while wearing a pink tank top, cut off jean shorts and rainbow leg warmers with a little dog in tow was not him.

I suppose I'm just being a bit nosey, and really it's none of my business but I hope he's well and planning to come back to his blog soon.

Other then that....

Cush and I have been super busy lately, balls, bbq's, drinks, coffees, dinners, you name it. It's been a bit silly really, I feel like I'm barely home but I guess it's good to keep busy.

Also we finally got around to getting our kitchen ceiling fixed. I think it had Gonu damage, or massive water damage anyway. The paint was all peeling and yellow and I'd had enough. Our landy refused to pay for it even though it all happened months before we moved in, so Cush decided that he would pay.

The first day went well enough, the painter showed up well equiped with plastic sheeting and all his paints and stuff and was done the sanding and primer by noon. I did notice that he got paint on my stove and fridge and speckles basically anywhere where he hadn't put the sheeting, and there was all kinds of paint out by our gas tank which is what he was using as a staging area with the paint bucket, but whatever.

The next day was a bit of a shock. The painter showed up and started to look like he was going to start painting but with one exception...he hadn't brought any sheeting with him. I suppose he must have thrown away the sheets he used the day before.

I really didn't want to say anything, because I feel like I always say something to every worker we have in our home but at the same time I don't want or feel like I should have to clean up paint speckles off every surface in our kitchen. That's not really fair or appropriate.

When he went to start painting is when I said, "excuse me, where are the plastic sheets?"

He was all like "what? no having today madam"

Was he seriously going to paint the ceiling with no sheeting at all?

You betcha! I should point out that on my fridge I have a priceless (ok maybe not) collection of fridge magnets from different countries and pictures of Cush and I and McFluffin that I really treasure.

I said that he needed to put something down to protect from the paint or to not bother. He asked me if I had some newspaper, which I didn't because I took them to the recycling box.

The painter went through some cupboards and found a nearly empty Pepsi tray which he then unfolded and stuck on top of the fridge which didn't even cover the whole top... nevermind the floor, the cupboards, the counter tops, the stove, the water cooler...

I said no way and sent him out and to be honest I have no idea where he got the plastic sheets from in my neighbourhood because he was only gone 15 minutes.

I don't know why I expected things to be different this time...just because we hired a professional contractor...well I guess that means nothing.

It's funny how I just can't get used to things like this.

In kitty news, they're getting along really well, and my I think my kitten has the cleanest bum of any kitty anywhere because McFluffin practically follows her around licking her bum. It's a little wierd and I don't get it and it makes me a little uncomfortable but what do you do?

Next week she's going in to be fixed which I've been told will cut down on her horrible squawking. This kitten has the worst meow I've ever heard, especially at 6am every morning, when she figures it's time for us to get up, with her little face about an inch away from mine.

Since I've never had a female cat, ever, and McFluffin came to us fixed and my parents always got our family pets done either when I was too young to remember or with the last one my mom got him fixed when I was on holiday in England....so I don't know how to care for her or what's going to happen.

My questions are these I guess:

Will I need to make sure her wound is clean and not weeping on the furniture?

Do I need to keep McFluffin away from her?

Will the horrible squawking stop?

Can she go out on our patio bearing in mind that she likes to dust herself like a chinchilla?

Will she be in pain?

Will she calm down and stop trying to climb the walls?

I guess I'll figure it all out as I go!

If you don't like it leave or....

2010-03-21T12:56:00.002+04:00

While I do agree that there comes a time when we all must make very grown up decisions regarding our futures, it often doesn't come easy.

Haven't we all had to do something we didn't like?

Who actually enjoyed grade school? Kids are mean, teachers tell you what to read and write about, and when you got home, you had more school work to complete, chores, possibly a paper route, dinner with your family (who always wanted to know what you had done in school) and you were expected to be in bed by 9:30 pm. Who would like that? I didn't, and yet I couldn't leave, because it would be illegal.

A lot of expats face the same sort of challenges when living here. Other expats aren't always as welcoming, communication with locals can seem confusing and a little scary, your new job comes with different or no policies that you were used to, you have new rules and laws that you aren't used to or possibly not aware of, there are cultural barriers at every turn and who hasn't taken a loan to buy a car, set up their flat and/or pay their 6 or 12 months of rent?

I know that I have come across all these things, and it has made for an interesting challenge.

I'm not a fan of the saying if you don't like it, leave because there are almost always circumstances that prevent that. Work contracts, bank loans, the investment of moving out here, lack of opportunities elsewhere...we all have reasons to stay.

I'm not saying that people don't love living here, there are lots of reasons to, but some days it's a lot harder to see those reasons.

Anyone remember my old job? I'm sure if you've popped in and out of my blog over the past year you will remember it as vividly as I do!

Many people offered me the advice of if you don't like it, just quit.

Maybe I seemed to be a glutton for punishment or maybe it was the lenghty list of blog topics staring #3 (shudder, SHUDDER!) but I chose to stay.

Staying with that job meant financial independance from Cush, getting out of the house everyday, something productive (somewhat) to do, it gave me a sense of importance, exercised my brain and I met a few people from other companies in town that I still see out and about.

But yeah, I liked to whine about it.

So what do you do when in an expat post or living in another country under whatever circumstances and you find yourself less then happy about it?

It's not easy but sometimes you have to make the most of things. Go out, meet people, do stuff.

Join a club, get involved in sports, do coffee mornings, or a dinner club, join a camping group, get involved in SOMETHING, start a blog even. All these things have contributed to me being a happier person (for me anyway, I can't speak for anyone else).

I think the trick is to identify what you don't like and change it.

For the longest time I had trouble making friends, I gained weight and felt really shitty about myself which didn't help with making friends because I wouldn't have wanted to be my own friend at that point. Who wants to be friends with a moper?

(Cush finds it hard to live here because he has a sex in public places fetish...just kidding!)

So I changed my circumstances, my self esteem went up, my confidence went up and now I have friends. That makes life a lot easier.

I think some locals and even some expats, who have a lot of friends and family around them don't especially realize how lonely it can be to be living in another country.

It's really hard. It's tough being alone, it's tough just knowing your spouse, or your parents, and it's tough meeting people, really it is.

Most of us actively made the decision to come here, myself included....I just thought it would be different, easier to integrate.

Maybe I was naive, can I blame that on only being 25 when I moved here?

Either way, if you don't like it here, and if you CAN'T leave, change what you can, pay off your debts, cut your losses and move on.

There are clearly bigger and better things waiting for you somewhere out there, you just need to enable yourself to make the changes necessary.

(can you tell I'm really big on debt/loan repayment? Here's why: one day you might get a fantastic job offer in Qatar or Abu Dhabi but if you skip out on a loan in the GCC you will not be able to work in any other GCC country as far as I'm told anyway)

Best of luck!

Rude people suck!

2010-03-14T10:04:00.005+04:00

Everytime I come back from Canada I find it harder to re-adjust to living here in Muscat.

People here are so rude. Soooooooooo rude. I don't understand where it all comes from. What is this sense of entitlement? What is this get the fuck out of my way attitude?

The last few weeks have been brutal to be honest.

Incident by incident-

1. In my car, stopped at a stop sign (as one is SUPPOSED to) turning left onto a street with a somewhat unclear view of oncoming traffic, which I know from experience that people drive very fast down the road (even though it's a residential neighbourhood, which means that there might be children chasing balls running into the road and you should go slowly), so I'm checking things out and making sure that no cars are coming and that I can go when then guy behind me starts beeping in a mad fury.
I wasn't stopped very long, just long enough to make sure the road was clear, you know to ensure MY personal safety (and I suppose any other cars) when entering the road.

2.Same street only going a different way, I was about to make a right turn when I saw a man crossing the street on his bicycle. I stopped to let him finish crossing and the man behind me started honking at me. Since I drive a small car and the beeper was in a Pajero, I'm sure he could see that there was a man in the road and that I wasn't stopping my car...for what? fun? practice? No I stopped my car because I don't think I would enjoy killing someone. Especially with my car, which I enjoy very much. Afterall, then I'd have to get it fixed which could take awhile, and I'd probably feel really bad about killing someone with it, so I'd have to sell it and I don't think I'd be able to sell it without admitting that the car was actually a murder weapon, if in fact I wasn't in jail for running the man over. Not sure how that all works to be honest....don't you just have to pay money if you run someone over?
Then, after I made my turn Mr. Pajero sped past me on a 2 lane road, under construction, with oncoming traffic, in a residential neighbourhood.

3. Driving along again in a residential (ok it's all been in my neighbourhood, I have shitty neighbours) I slowed down to drive over a speed bump and there was a car behind me which followed me over the bump, and then jerked out from behind me sped past me and turned down a road maybe 100 M away. Is that really necessary?

Just so we're all clear I do not drive through my neighbourhood at 20 km/h, but at 50 which is a safe speed, I think for a neighbourhood.

4. I was waiting in line at TSC to have my 1 bag of veggies weighed when a woman barged in front of me to have her things weighed first.

5. Walking across the parking lot at Al Fair and a car just kept driving towards me, slowly mind you, but why take chances? What if I had tripped and/or fallen?

6. Shopping for earings at Aldo Accessories in QCC...ugh I smiled at the girl working there, since she didn't bother to say hello and I thought I'd be friendly (I do have the ability sometimes) and she blanked me. Nice. Same deal when being cashed out at Carrefour, I smiled at the girl and got nothing. I said thankyou when she gave me my receipt and change, and again, nothing. What's the deal?

I can't for the life of me understand all this rudeness, and am convinced that one day, someone will honk at me for stopping to let a little old lady cross the road in front of my car, and I will get out and have a shouting match, for which the police will be called and Cush will have to pay someone money because I had the guts to stand up for myself and not be bullied by all these assholes who are in such a rush that they can't just wait 10-15 seconds.

No wonder so many people here die on the roads...

Ghetto Supastar

2010-03-09T11:59:00.003+04:00

The other night I was driving home and went to switch the file on my USB stick and all the display said was, "Reading....Reading...Reading..."

I knew this was bad. I took the stick out and blew on it a la old Nintendo games thinking maybe dust had gotten in. I put it back in and the same thing happened. I took the stick out and the head unit off and blew on it too, put it back on, blew on the stick again just to be safe, put it back in and still no magic.

When I got home I told Cush what had happened and he said he would buy me a new one and in the meantime we could make a CD.

I tried the CD but with no joy and flipped on the radio. On Hi FM it was some sort of sad 80's easy listening (at 6 PM during the drive home???) and on 90.4 it was just some sort of talking (at 6 PM on the drive home???). Obviously I couldn't handle either. 80's sad rock and boring, monotone talking make me want to do bad things.

If it could have been a switch-a-roo I could have listened to the Hi FM people talking because they don't talk in monotone, but it wasn't to be....

Anyway, I had to play my ace.

I got my phone and turned on the music player and turned the volume up as loud as I could.

It was so ghetto but I was so happy to have my tunes!

The only downside to this, besides not being able to turn it up to a reasonable *car stereo* sound level was that I have tended to put music on my phone that I like but don't necessarily want other people to know I like. Although I did keep reaching to turn up the volume like a muppet about 3 times and each time I said to myself, "oh yeah...broken..."

I usually use my phone as an MP3 player with headphones for walks and the music I put on is music that is just better going right into my head directly rather then other peoples.

Does that make any sense?

Like, when I'm walking with headphones Billy Joel seems like a good idea. Driving in my car, Billy Joel seems like a bad idea, just like Hair by Zen. Now the cat's out of the bag, but I can't help myself.

Speaking of cats....Small Fry and McFluffin are getting along really well. I can't really figure out their relationship. They lick each other, (play?) fight, play in general, and eat together but seem to prefer to sleep seperately. Is it like they're just friends, are they a couple or is it more like brother-sister?

Either way, Small Fry gets to stay because McFluffin LOVES her. I had to put Small Fry in my bedroom with the door shut while I was cleaning out the litter boxes because she tries to "help" me and I just get frustrated, and when I went to open the door to take her out, McFluffin was sitting outside the door wanting to be inside with her. I have never seen him like another cat before.

My only complaints about the kitten are that she scratches the furniture, throws kitty litter everywhere but seems to have fun digging in the box, she meows this hurrendous meow that I literally cannot stand the sound of, she likes to be fed around 4 AM and she likes to eat and play with my hair.

Right so back to the car audio problems, I'm really disappointed with Kenwood, I've only had that stereo a year and a half.

I might go with Pioneer this time. Anyone have any feedback on car audio?

WTF? Muscat Confidential blocked...

2010-03-06T13:52:00.002+04:00

That sucks.

In fact it super sucks. What's the matter folks? Can't handle the hard truth? The alleged truth? The matter of fact way he points things out that others may prefer to turn a blind eye to or stick their heads in the sand about?

So sorry that he doesn't offer a spoon full of sugar to swallow down the bitterness of reality.

Who are these sad bastards that email Omantel anyway?

I always wondered that. Who in their right mind is googling for boobies and such (for example) and then gets so bent out of shape when the boobies are found that they have to send an email?

Life is tough, the truth usually sucks and people are stupid.

The good thing is though, about stuff on the internet, is that you don't have to look at it if you choose not to. That's a personal choice that you can make for yourself. Really no one should ever, ever make decisions for other people. Who the fuck is anyone to tell anyone else what they can and cannot read?

Censorship! I hate it!

Sorry Dragon, hope things turn around for you man.

25 who-jimmy-whats-its

2010-02-06T06:27:00.005+04:00

Hello, hello!

I'm drunk and posting, good times. I'll try and keep the typos to a minimum as always...but I'm not promising anything!

So Bobby, my dear friend Bobby, who I've never met but he lives in Muscat, tagged me to post 25 things. I think random things or maybe secrets but I'm not sure.

I think I'll post some truths and/or opinions.

1. I'm in Canada right now. Seriously and it's fucking freezing!

2. I think that Diet Pepsi in plastic bottles tastes wierd, but in cans it's good.

3. I got stood up tonight by some friends because they had a bad day...and they forgot about me...so they didn't call....so I ended up sitting in the bar with random people....who I still knew but not as well. I texted them this exact message - Hey you guys ditched me! Now I'm stuck here with THESE people...thanks - Angry. Then I felt bad.

4. I'm eating jelly beans.

5. I love jelly beans.

6. I love things covered in chocolate.

7. You can buy a lot of things covered in chocolate in Canada. Cherries, blueberries, pretzels (awesome with white wine), coffee beans, ju jubes, cashews, almonds, peanuts, raisins....Bridge Mixture anyone? I love them all..maybe it's a chocolate thing?

8. I'm listening to Can't Stop by Red Hot Chili Peppers...this life is more then just a read through indeed. Great song, couldn't find the right video.

9. I miss Small Fry and McFluffin.

10. Oh yeah and Cush!

11. I'm only on number 11...25 is a lot to ask of people really.

12. I miss super fast internet. I think my parents have the basic 8 MG (MB?) service... I say 8 is enough but you can get faster here, and it's dirt cheap. And there's no censoring so you can watch as much YouPorn as you want! Not that I do that...

13. My parents are not here and this house freaks me out when I'm in it alone. Especially when I've been smoking my special cigarettes, I think it's because the house is made of wood. Does that make sense? (I just re-read this...it made no sense...I think the wood creaks and makes the strange noises)

14. I just finished all my jelly beans and now I feel a bit gross. I have jelly belly for real. Aptly named...touche.

15. I've been wearing 2 of everything. Socks, shirts, pants (trousers, yo), gloves. It's terrible. My arm tan is fading.

16. I've gotten squishy. I had bronchitis since the beginning of January so I wasn't working out and now I'm eating nothing but chocolate covered foods and jelly beans, and Quaker rice products that masquarade as being somewhat healthy but they aren't really. Plus I've been buying healthy food too but...it's just not as enticing right now. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm squishy! I used to be somewhat tight :( Where did my motivation go? Plus, I'm due to wear a short dress when I get back to Muscat and my calves look like small hams (no nipples). Fuck.

18. It's not as cold as I think it is. I remember hearing this story about a family who took a wrong turn and ended up getting their car stuck in the snow and then the guy walked to find help and he died, and I can't imagine how that happened, unless he wasn't clothed for the elements or something. I mean really, walking 10 km in -20 temps was my typical winter Saturday when I was a teenager. I am struggling a bit, but I'm alright. Really just my face is cold.

19. Now I'm listening to Boys In The Bright White Sports Car by Trooper. Trooper are Canadian, like me. That makes them awesome, like me. :P

20. Sometimes old friends aren't as good as new friends. I don't even know how this is possible. Cush messaged my "best friend" out of the blue to let her know I was coming home, I think I had just decided and went to bed and he saw her online or something, and she was all like, I have a crisis right now. And Cush was like, what crisis? And BFF was like, duh the earthquake! So, while I agree that's important, I also think it's important to priortize. Like, for example, people I know vs. people I don't know. Should I be more worried about people in Haiti or Peru or whatever or people that I was friends with for years? Maybe that's a bit black and white...but man... I still haven't had a reply to the email I sent her July 25. She can get fucked. FUCKED. My new friends are awesome. Way more awesome.

21. I'm having a love affair. With my favorite radio station. In fact if my favorite radio station had a decent sized penis, I'd marry it. 102.1 The Edge, seriously. It's the shizzit fo rizzo. Oddly I might have just made it sound as though they play rap music, but in fact they play new rock, aka alternative, which is better then rap any day of the week. I wish there was a radio station in Muscat like them. Then I may not be such a miserable bizatch sometimes. Music..it's all about the music. On The Edge they had this little segment about the evolution of new rock and how it progressed from metal, to something, to ska, to electronica, to whatever and so forth and I found it really interesting, even though I can't remember what came after electronica. Check out their webby here if you're interested.

22. 25 things is a lot. I don't think I have anymore in me without getting really personal.

23. I'm wearing black undies.

24. I'm also wearing black socks...2 pairs ...stop the whistles now. Feel free to indulge in deviant sexual fantasies.

25. I've been smoking in front of the fire place, don't tell my parents.

I don't really want to tag anyone because I think 25 things is way too many things. I really struggled. But I'm drunk, so maybe that's just made things upstairs a bit slower. Can I do a general tag where if you're reading this and you have blog you're tagged? Maybe I can do whatever the hell I want. You are tagged! Yes you. Go do it now.

Just kidding.

I feel full of love. I just want to tell everyone I love them.

......

I love you!

Nipple dinner follow up and a new addition

2010-01-22T18:44:00.003+04:00

Alright so you're all interested to know, what happened to the nipples. Well I cooked the pork, it was yummy and we just ate around the nipples.

Once it was cooked it didn't seem quite as gross anymore somehow. I mean yeah it's still gross...I don't want to talk about it anymore!!

So my small family of three now has a fourth, Small Fry. Small Fry is a 3 month old kitten who once belonged to a friend of mine. This friend, due to circumstances that are a little dodgy at best is no longer in Oman and won't be coming back for a very long time, if ever at all.

He left behind 2 kittens in his flat, for over a week, on their own with only some guy stopping in every couple of days to feed them. This guy who came by for the kittens didn't really seem to know what he was doing because they had no water and their litter trays were over flowing.

Cush and I took control of the 2 kittens and brought them to the vet, got their shots, and tested for diseases. Thankfully they came back disease free.

I had already found a home for the little male kitten and decided to take the female to my house.

McFluffin (my fur baby of 5 years) hates other cats but I figured that since he had only ever met male cats, maybe he would be different with a female.

So I've got Small Fry seperated in our guest room where she is safe, has her own food, water, toys, and litter box. She has taken to sleeping on a shelf in the closet on top of my pashminas. I have to say, she's a sweetheart.

She cuddles and purrs and comes running when you go in the room. I took a nap in the guest bed this afternoon to keep her company and she snuggled up against me under the sheet.

Small Fry is so different from McFluffin.

Oh, and they don't get along just yet.

I've been trying to do this right so they're seperate. I pet McFluffin, then go and pet Small Fry, then go and pet McFluffin again so their scents mingle.

I also took Small Fry out and put McFluffin in her room so he could get used to her scent.

Then McFluffin was camped outside the guest room door so I thought, well if he's being curious, I may as well try and introduce them.

McFluffin went in and sniffed around and then caught sight of Small Fry and hissed at her. Poor Small Fry got scared and ran away and hid.

I just wish McFluffin spoke English, then I could just explain to him the situation. I don't even think he knows Small Fry is a girl because they won't get close enough together for a sniff.

Cats, eh?

Dinner tonight - nipples!?

2010-01-17T17:14:00.005+04:00

Awhile back Cush and I went to the pork shop and picked out what I thought was pork roast. As it happened it was actually pork belly.

For those that don't know (including myself as of yesterday) pork belly is esentially a hunk of non-sliced bacon.

Usually when I cook pork roast I make some slits on top of the roast and insert garlic slices and then rub olive oil, rosemary, salt and pepper on top. But this was clearly not the same and so I googled recipes.

I prepared my pan, preheated my oven and took the pork out of it's package. I turned it over, plonked it down on the roasting rack and saw this-

Nipples!

That's the last thing I was expecting!

Being completely caught off gaurd, I wondered what I should do, leave them on, and eat them? cut them off, and throw them away? leave them on, cook the meat then cut them off when I'm done and throw them away?

I was seriously conflicted. All options seemed exceptionally gross to me.

I called my friend, "The Chef" to ask for advice.

During the course of our friendship, I've had to ask her advice from time to time and she's never steered me wrong, but even she was a little conflicted about the nipples.

We both agreed that all options were a little wierd and none of the solutions made either of us comfortable.

In the end we decided that I should cook the pork with the nipples left on and then see what Cush thinks when he gets home.

I'm not sure how he'll feel about the nipples, but I can't just not say anything, especially now that I'm writing about it but to sneakily feed him nipples would break the trust we have. He trusts me in the kitchen.

Over the years I've had a few run ins with the food that I've prepared. I've had to pluck a few feathers out of chickens, I even had to ask someone else to take a liver out of a chicken because I simply could not do it, I've bought beef that looked like it had some hide on it which I had to trim off, but never nipples.

Nipples are a new thing altogether...

Muscat Rugby Club New Years Eve - rockin!

2010-01-11T13:04:00.004+04:00

For New Year's Eve, Cush and I decided to go to the Muscat Rugby Club. Tickets were 30 OR each (one of the cheapest events in the city that night) for all you can drink and a lovely turkey curry. Best of all, there was no dress code. People wore anything from jeans and t-shirts to gowns and tux's.

The club had a theme of drinks around the world or something and different bars were set up that you could go and get drinks at. I spent a lot of time at the Canadian bar (of course!). They had shots!

Shots of tequila and hot sauce known as a Prairie Fire, regular tequila shots with lime wedges and salt, Polar Bears, a lovely mix of Creme de Menthe and Creme de Cacao, which tasted like a peppermint pattie and lots of whiskey!

It was awesome!

There were Canadian flags everywhere, the bar staff (who I think were club members just having a laugh and playing "bar") were Canadian and the place was really busy.

The thing with tequila though is that it makes people (me) a little nutty (slutty?!). When I drink tequila, I get the urge to take all my clothes off and run around naked. Not a problem in Canada so much, but here I would surely be arrested! Never good.

Looking back through my pictures of the night (and no I won't be posting them, sorry guys!) it looks as though someone "borrowed" my camera and took pictures of themselves. A man and a woman who I have no idea who they are, took pictures of themselves in "sexy" poses. I say "sexy" because I don't find Rubenesque ladies pretending to lick their nipples all that hot.

To be honest it was almost like a bad Girls Gone Wild commercial, but a PG 13 one.

But I can feel for the girl...I after all wanted to strip off and run down the street naked, cheering myself on yelling wooo! Yep I'm a woo girl! Only when drinking...

The music was good as well, DJ Andy Pyzer (awesome!) was doing his thing, and Scratch Band with Kathy Cole (awesome!) and Adam ( I think) on guitar (also awesome!).

I danced up a storm all night...in between throwing back shots of course.

We didn't leave the club until 3:30am and thought that McDonald's would be a good idea, we ended up waiting 45 minutes for 2 cheeseburger happy meals..worth it!

All in all in bed by 5, woke up around 10 feeling pretty good, all things considered.

I have to say, the Rugby Club knows how to throw an event, I've been to a few over the last year, including the 3 Amigo's event in the summer, which totally rocked.

People who have read my blog for awhile may remember last Christmas when I went to a party at the club and nearly had an altercation with a woman who was a bit nasty to me. I left feeling like a loser.

What a difference a year can make. I think back to last year and I was extremely shy, not happy in my own skin and timid as all hell...which isn't really a good way to describe being timid but there we are.

I quite like that I started this blog, it's good to look back and marvel at my changes.

I'm a changed woman! Woooo!

Anyway, everyone has been super lovely every time I've been back since, so maybe it was an off night that night.

If you can make it, I highly recommend going to any of their events, it's usually worth it. Or hey, you can also be a member and enjoy the cheap drinks, and strange assortment of people who go there any evening of the week.

I can't even believe I almost forgot to mention just one little thing for the ladies out there...the rugby players are a bunch of hotties! I can't understand how it's possible to have so many hot men all in one place at the same time. It's madness!

So girls, if your man likes rugby, rest assured that yes, going to the club will at least give you a little something to sneakily oogle, and if you're single all the better! You can oogle openly :)

I thought I had something else to say but I got distracted by thoughts of hot rugby players...

2010 off to a very good start indeed!

2009 -a year in numbers and a rant!

2009-12-30T09:19:00.004+04:00

Wow it's almost 2010 already! Where does the time go, eh?

I thought for my New Years post I'd do a re-cap of my year in numbers.

Number of posts I wrote - 107 (this doesn't include ones I started then didn't post)

Number of pounds lost - 45

Number of pounds regained due to Christmas related eating and drinking - 3

Number of car accidents - 1

Number of car accidents our fault - 0

Number of trips to the floor - 2 (alcohol...what can I say?)

Number of jobs lost - 1

Number of blessings in disguise regarding jobs lost - 1

Number of jobs offered - 3 (I had my reasons for not taking them)

Number of times appreared in local newspaper - 4

Number of time appeared in local newspaper for good deeds - 0

Number of friends made - 32 (not bad I think!)

Number of best friends lost and found - 1

Number of weddings attended - 0

Number of funerals attended - 0

Number of medical emergencies - 1

Number of sporting events attended - 7

Number of balls attended - 4

Number of times I lost my wedding ring - 1

Number of times found my wedding ring after losing it - 1 (the cat threw it off the table and into my makeup bag on the floor, cheeky bugger!)

Number of times the houseboy nearly saw me naked - 1

Number of loved ones who came to visit - 4

Number of trips to Western countries - 2

Number of times dissatisfied with local merchants - 6

Number of near-misses on the road - too many to count!

Number of coffee mornings attended with friends - 5

Number of novels attempted to write - 1

And now I'm bored with this...

It's been a good year all in all, much better then last year on the whole in most ways.

I must say the one thing I regret in an odd way is my old job...yes yes I know my regular readers (if there's any left???) are probably thinking *sorry, what??*

But yeah, my old job was my muse for writing. My muse got rid of me, for financial reasons but got rid of me none the less.

Now my blog has become *the shopping blog* as someone said to me, which is true but not what I set out to be.

Not that I wanted to be that angry chic, but I was and now I'm that shopping chic who writes about total crap.

I suppose that's fine, I am after all feeling much more settled and happy. I've got more confidence and things that fill my time and really what have I got to complain about?

Well, I do have something but I've written about it at least 20 times already. The driving.

I suppose I could close the year with a good old fashioned traffic rant...

Here you go, you're welcome.

To all you fuckheads out there who think it's ok to ride my bumper while the fuckhead in front of me has just slammed on his/her brakes in front of me for NO REASON-fuck you.

To all you fuckheads who think it's ok to chat on your mobiles while weaving in and out of traffic on SQ highway at 120k/h-fuck you.

To all you fuckheads who run out onto the street in front of my car while I'm driving at 120k/h on SQ highway-fuck you.

To all you fuckheads who do U turns RIGHT in front of my car when you could just drive to the next roundabout 2 minutes down the roads-fuck you, you fucking lazy cunts!

To all you fuckheads who thinking it's ok to drag race and squeal your tires around corners in a quiet residential neighbourhood-fuck you.

To all you fuckheads who would rather get into a head on collision with me rather then drive over some rocks and dirt on the road-FUCK YOU!!!!

What the fuck are you all fucking thinking???? Where the fuck did you get your fucking license? A shop in Ruwi???

Smarten the fuck up.

Ahh...forgot how good that feels...sometimes you just gotta get it all out...

Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all have a safe and happy 2010 :)

Last night in Al Khuwair....

2009-12-17T10:57:00.003+04:00

I'm currently slightly hungover and feeling tired. Last night was a bit of a stormer- meaning I drank too much, again.

I woke up with a sense of dread having left my car overnight in Al Khuwair near a construction site. I have done this before, drank too much and left it there, and it's always been fine but this morning I was terrified, so much so that I couldn't go back to sleep.

I tried waking Cush up to take me to get my car but he only responded, "Angry it's 7:30 I'm not going anywhere, go back to sleep" but I couldn't.

I couldn't stop worrying that a brick had fallen off the building and through my windshield.

When we did get to the car after a visit to the pork shop in Ruwi (which was out of most pork stock) my car was fine.

All that for nothing.

Back to last night, I had a blast. I talked to a man who I had seen around and been pleasant with but didn't know very well for about 4 hours. Now we're besties. I do blame him somewhat for how I feel this morning as he did order and purchase the deadly 5th glass of red wine, but that's life, eh?

I've been over drinking a lot since I came back from Canada last month, and I'm starting to notice that my shyness is going away. The drunk girl beat the shy girl into submission and I'm not sure it's a good thing but not entirely convinced it's a bad thing.

Snippets of strange, obnoxious, loud conversations, laughing my ass off and smacking peoples legs when doing said laughing, touching peoples arms and shoulders, and grinning like a moron and nodding while I pretend I can understand strange accents made stranger by lots of alcohol. Sometimes I just have not a clue what people are saying to me. Sometimes I tell them so.

This must stop. I don't want to be that wierd drunk girl that people start to avoid after awhile.

You know how it goes cuz I'm sure we've all felt like this before-

person 1- she's coming this way

person 2- you sure?

person 1- yep don't make eye contact!

person 2- psycho hose beast....

Yeah...don't want to be that girl.

Action plan- stick to the magic number.

3 is my magic number any more then that and it just gets messy.

At the same time, I do have fun when I'm all drunk and loud and saying inappropriate things to people I barely know, I guess I just don't want them to think badly of me. But then what's the harm really? I'm not an angry drunk, I don't insult people, if anything maybe I make people feel good because I'm the type of drunk who will tell you you're lovely, in fact I almost told a woman that last night but did have the restraint to stop myself but she really was looking gorgeous.

What's wrong with being really, really, REALLY friendly? Is that so bad?

And now I need pancakes and bacon...that will make everything feel better :D

I'm back!

2009-11-25T09:23:00.002+04:00

Ok I've been back for a couple of weeks. I just had nothing really constructive or interesting to write.

I'm glad to be back in Muscat but man, it takes some getting used to again.

And of course my allergies kicked in the first week I was back, which ment that I was sort of sick and had to take my allergy meds at night, or suffer through it in the day because they make me super sleepy, and that makes for bad and dangerous driving.

I've been super busy since I got back.

I had a job interview that didn't go well, at all.

I went for coffee with friends a few times.

I hosted a super fun girls only dinner party which included some Dance Dance Revolution and Rock Band.

I took my dress to a new tailor for an upcoming ball.

I took my glasses in to the glasses shop to have the lenses fixed for a 4th time. Hoping this time they get it right.

I joined an event committee and am looking forward to seeing how it goes.

I went to the Park Inn rooftop bar and thought the service sucked ass but the atmosphere was really good.

I have my usual complaints, the driving, that not all grocery stores have the same stuff so I have to go to many different stores to get all the things I want, the dust, etc.

Other then that I've got nothing!

Canada was really good. I shopped until no one wanted to come shopping with me anymore, not even my mom because she found it exhausting.

I ended up at Sears and they had all their formal dresses on sale for 40% off so I got 4!

I bought all sorts of new exercise dvd's and have been doing them.

I bought tonnes of stuff from my 3 favorite shops, La Senza, Suzy Shier and Old Navy.

On my way back home though, a scary thing happened when I got to the airport. My mom booked me on the air bus because she doesn't like to drive to Toronto, and it was all fine but then at the ticket counter they asked to see the credit card that paid for the tickets.

It was at home here in Muscat in Cush's wallet, so obviously I didn't have it.

They would not let me fly without it. I spoke to everyone all the way up the chain but they all said I had to have the credit card, that, or buy a new flight for $2,000!

I asked if they were fucking kidding me, $2,000??? That's more then we paid for both our return flights in the first place.

That's when I started crying. It didn't work. I was so frustrated and upset. Flying is stressful enough without any added bullshit.

The solution was for me to call my mom from a pay phone, who then called Cush (at 3am Muscat time) woke him up, and had him scan his passport and both sides of his credit card.

At first they said he had to fax it over, and I said, oh ok because we have a fax machine in our house right?

I was getting a bit beligerant to be honest. I'd never been accused of credit card theft and fraud before.

Whatever, it all worked out in the end.

My mom has called the fraud squad to complain because no one should ever ask for the back of your credit card, and now we'll see what happens.

The part that really pisses me off is that Cush and I flew out on the same dates, our tickets were bought at the same time months ago on the credit card in question, we sat next to each other on the flight out and we have the same last name.

I wonder what the probability of fraud is when you take all those factors into account. I would bet it's pretty slim.

Oh well it all worked out.

Tonight I'm atteneding my first Christmas party of the season, just one month to go!

Also Cush and I are considering some plans for Eid. I think camping is on the menu.

Just as an ending bit, thought I'd share my new favorite song. I have to say I've bought every Franz Ferdinand cd over the years and I really like them! Those guys never let me down.

My favorite part of going home is listening to 102.1 The Edge, my favorite and best radio station EVER, because I get to hear music that I otherwise would probably never know existed.

One of my fondest memories of Toronto was sitting in my old apartment listening to Franz Ferdinand - Do You Want To and breaking in my brand new bong. That song went on forever! It was great!

Anyway, my favorite song of the moment- Ulysses by Franz Ferdinand. I'm not fond of the video but whatever.

Turn it up loud and enjoy!

Pictures of me and some other stuff

2009-10-31T07:50:00.006+04:00

Ok so I have to admit first and foremost that I'm pissed. Drunk. Not falling down drunk or anything but I'm fairly drunk at the moment.

I've had 4 glasses of red at my parents local.

Did I mention they live in the middle of Ontario's wine country?

They do.

Since they've lived in the same town ever since I was born do you know what that means? It means I'm a small town girl, but I still feel that since I lived in Toronto for over 5 years and never really fit in here anyway, I'm a city girl.

Moving on, I love the local wines. I had 4 glasses. That's 2 more glasses then I usually allow myself. And believe me, correcting the spelling is becoming a hassle. If I've missed any, I'm sorry.

After dinner, my parents and I walked down to one of the local bars and met up with some of their friends who have by proxy become my friends as well. I've known most of them since I was little. It was good times.

My mom and I were on our way to the loos when she said , "all the boys are looking at you" right in front of the boys who were looking at me! WTF?! I was so embaressed. Why do moms do that?

Other then that I've been shopping and walking around.

Walking has been good. I've got used to the chilly air and it's got a bit warmer outside.

As for the walking though...

I've been going on "special walks" to have "sanity cigarettes" and every time I go which is most nights I end up freaked out and terrified.

It's all dark and breezy, the leaves are dropping from trees and sometimes if it's been raining, the drops fall from the tops of the trees and it all adds up and I get so paranoid that it's a wonder I haven't had a heart attack.

The sound that the leaves make as they fall is surprisingly loud. I get convinced that someone is following me, someone who will rape and murder me and not necessarlily in that order.

I end up running home in a cold sweat, afraid of my own shadow. It really doesn't help that people have gone into full blown Halloween mode and have decorated their yards with ghosts and skeletons and gravestones.

I just went for a cigartette and I swear a possum just walked past me. A fucking possum!

Really you know you're in the country when...

Having said that we had raccoons that routinely shat on our deck when we lived downtown Toronto so go figure...

Anyway, I've decided tp upload pictures of myself. I'm feeling pretty bold and drunk and whatever. It seems like a good idea now.

So, here I am (bear in mind the carmera adds 10 pounds and so does the coat!)-

Me walking in the woods.
Me looking down at the town that I was born and raised in. You can see the shoreline of Lake Ontario.

Me in the woods again.

So there you go, that's me in the woods.

Actually, if I'm going to be honest, which I am, I asked Cush to take these so I could put them up here. Just for fun.

So I was hoping this post would turn into something thought provoking but it hasn't. I'm too drunk to think deeply.

Actually, I just want to go to bed and sleep it off. Actually I want a cigarette before I go to bed but I'm terrified if the possum comes back.

You don't understand it walked right. past. me.

Oh and hey, what's all this nonesense about who I am, and who I'm married to?

If you're out of the loop read this post from Jet Driver and the comments. I was merely pointing out the obvious that JD is in love (obsessed!) with UD. I can tell these things... And also, I had just had a "sanity cigarette" and I found my own comment amusing.

Am I Ms. Dragon? I suspect she has a million years more patience then I do.

Is Cush Mr. Dragon? Not that I know of, since UD started blogging before Cush and I moved here, so it doesn't really make sense.

Am I Undercover Dragon? Do I seem clever enough? No, no I don't.

Could I be dumbing myself down? I could be but I don't think I have the patience to lead a double life of smart girl/average-to-dippy girl.

Maybe we are all BFF's, but perhaps we aren't and never will be.

Does it really matter?

Does it? I'm just a girl, my husband is just a guy and that's how we roll. I could be you but I write my shit down, you know?

I don't think I'm interesting enough to theorize about, but I'm flattered really.

So I guess thanks.

Maybe UD is interesting enough to theorize about and I just got caught in the middle. That works.

Anyway, I'm off to sleep off my drunkenness.

Good night.

Shopoholic moments

2009-10-22T20:34:00.003+04:00

Man, I've been busy!

I've been shopping, walking around, went to the Toronto Zoo, got a proper massage, did more shopping, had a family dinner, went to see Couples Retreat (new Vince Vaughn movie), shopped online, saw old friends, and managed to only workout properly once since I got here.

That one workout has me in pain. I think it's worth it to just keep working out because if you don't the next time will be extra painful. I've pulled the backs of my knees, I don't think I've ever done that before.

So, I noticed something funny, and maybe this is only funny to those who are *in the know* but every shop I go into I gravitate towards coats, jackets, corduroy, toques, mittens and scarves. They all seem to call out my name and beg me to buy them. I will admit that I bought a scarf, but it's light enough to wear in Muscat in the winter, plus it's pretty.

The jackets this season are so nice and I desperately want one.

I have even come up with excuses like-

-I'll wear it eventually
-I haven't bought a coat in years
-My currant winter coat isn't fashiony
-I need to be warm
-My mom and I might be able to time share it
-I'm Canadian, it's in my blood to want jackets!

I haven't bought one though and so far I've had enough sense to know that my excuses are feeble.

I live in a hot country. This is a fact. I will not need a winter coat there.

Also, the new trend is plaid, and phrases like "hunter chic" keep coming up to describe the new look.

I can't be hunter chic in Muscat, it just doesn't work. People would nudge each other and say *I bet that girl's from Canada eh?* and then some smart ass would ask me about hunting moose and whatever. Can't do it.

This is a bit of a blessing because I've found some summer stuff on sale and even though I badly want a new sweater also, I won't let myself do it.

At this point I feel so far removed from Muscat that I can't even imagine being hot, I can't imagine the sun, or the beaches, or my standard uniform of capri's, t-shirt and flip flops anymore.

The tree leaves here are all yellow, red and orange a sure sign of winter to come, and even though it's beautiful, I don't like being cold!

If I can ever find my data cable for my camera, I'll post some pics.

So far, so freezing!

2009-10-12T17:17:00.002+04:00

Well alright, I over reacted.

Things are going well. Cush and I went over to the BFF's house and it was like old times.

I have to say she's matured and grown since I saw her last year, which is great.

I met her new boyfriend and he seems great and I think I like him better then her ex-fiance, which is fantastic. She seems happier and lighter and I was a little happy to see that she's put on a few pounds, a sure sign of happiness and self confidence. She was so skinny before when she was with her ex, it was a bit too much. I didn't bother to ask her about the no emails for 2 months thing, it didn't seem worth it.

So far I've been doing lots of shopping and seeing my extended family, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Cush and I even managed to run into an old friend of mine from grade school while we were out shopping. I've known this girl since I was 6 and hadn't seen her in years.

I was in full on Muscat mode and gave her a hug and had to stop myself from kissing her cheeks.

We just don't really do that in Canada unless we're being posers. Seriously.

Other then that I've been so cold I can hardly stand it. My bedroom is now downstairs in the basement since my dad turned my old bedroom into an office for himself.

It's freezing down there but at least Cush and I have lots of privacy! It's unfortunately too cold to make use of that privacy, oh well.

The termometer on my parents deck said it was 0 C at about 8 am this morning, which is really cold for October here. I keep saying to myself that I'm Canadian, I can do cold! but honestly I'm finding it really hard. All that training half naked in front of the AC was for nothing it seems.

Today we're going to the Thanksgiving Craft Show in the countryside. It's an outside event so I'm planning to wear 2 pairs of socks, leggings, jeans, long sleeve shirt (which feels so wierd after not wearing one for a year), a sweater, my old winter coat, a hat, scarf, mittens and probably my old winter boots.

Since I'm not really big on crafty things I probably won't buy anything except a hot cup of apple cider and maybe a Christmas ornament or 2 but you never know, I may be overcome with nostalgia for Canadian crafts and buy lots of stuff.

Other then that I'm a bit overwhelmed about the amount of people who want to see me. Add all those people with plans my mom has made with me, plus the things that Cush and I want to do together...I don't know how I'm going to fit it all in.

Oh well, I'll either find a way or I won't!

Oh, Canada...

2009-10-07T12:26:00.003+04:00

So this is my last post from Muscat for awhile.

My suitcase is half packed.

McFluffin (the cat's new name, SuperFluff was getting a little old) is already at his sitter.

Cush and I have bought gifts for everyone back home.

We've arranged to have our plants watered.

I've got our passports and a few hundred Canadian dollars ready to go by the door.

Everything is pretty much ready to go except me.

I feel really apprehensive about this trip.

What on earth was I thinking going for a month?

When did that ever seem like a good idea to me?

I'm so worried that things will just fall to pieces like they did last time, that I will fall to pieces like I did the last time.

As much as I get frustrated with living in Muscat, I'm finally in a happy place here, except obviously in the car.

I like my new friends, and generally I like the little life we have here.

I'm terrified honestly that I will have yet again *changed* and I don't know how to be my old self because I'm just me and that wasn't ok the last time.

I'm scared of gaining the weight back, my mom keeps talking about turkey and ham and the neighbour (who also made our fantastic wedding cake) is making a cake...and I don't need it or want it.

This isn't how it's supposed to feel.

I'm stressed right out, my head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds and that my neck can barely hold it up.

I find that I'm not looking forward to doing stuff but that I'm sad about what I'll miss while I'm away.

What a spoiled brat I am. My parents pay for me and Cush to come and visit and I don't want to go now? That's messed up.

I feel like a little kid on the first day of school pleading with my mom not to make me go because I'm afraid the kids will be mean to me.

Ok I'm just being over dramatic right? Things will be fine, my old friends will be fine and if they aren't I'll tell em to get fucked.

I will not be pushed around like the last time.

This cannot go the way it did the last time, it just can't.

Obviously, I'm going to go. Obviously I will eat turkey and ham and cake and probably drink too much. Obviously things will be awkward, afterall I assume I will see the friend who is not really a friend because afterall, I haven't heard from her in 2 months other then a happy birthday on my facebook wall and a *like* on my status that I'm coming home. What's that about? She can't take 5 freakin minutes to to reply to my email? Ugh...

Ok must move on...

Seriously. All will be fine. Right?

Besides if I didn't go, all that time I spent training for the cold by sitting in my undies in front of the AC turned down to 17 will be wasted! I can't have that.

Sy Azzura - the boat trip to take

2009-10-05T15:22:00.008+04:00

This weekend we did something super fun and enjoyable, the kind of thing that makes you happy to be alive and living in Muscat.

Cush and I took a sunset trip aboard the Sy Azzura which is a super fabulous catamaran yacht.

Since I'm not really a boat person and am using words that may confuse other non boat people, it's a big boat.

Click here for the Sy Azzura website.

We set off from the Barr Al Jissa marina and headed towards a little inlet just past Yiti and before Bandar Kiran, it was so beautiful.

Not to get all mushy but the way the breeze ruffled my hair and blouse, the smell of the air (didn't smell like fish!) and a nice glass of wine made me feel so happy and peaceful, not to mention absolutely spoiled rotton.

It might have been the wine or all that fresh air, but really one of the best times I've had in a long time.

Here's some pictures:

So in addition to the priviledge of just spending time on this beauty of a boat, they also have kayaks, jet ski's and other water toys to play with. When they stopped the boat in the inlet some people went swimming, while others stood or sat just enjoying themselves.

I'm more of a stand arounder then a swimmer but I had a wicked time watching Cush jump off the boat into the water, taking pictures and talking to the other guests, as well as the owner of the boat, Clara, who is the perfect hostess.

I have to admit that when the idea of going on the Azzura came up I was immediatly struck with the panicy thought of, what if I have to pee?

The boat has loos in the pontoons!

Then I thought, what if I fall in?

The boat is huge and has rails on the sides so there was no chance of that happening unless I got crazy.

Then I wondered about seasickness, but the water was so calm, and I felt fine.

Then I wondered about the people who drive the boat...afterall this is Oman, but the crew were very capable, friendly and I liked that they wore matching white uniforms. It was very professional, and extremely well done.

So without trying to sound too much like an infomercial, it was perfect and everyone was super friendly. I had the best time ever and I can't wait to go again.

After that we headed over to the Oman Dive Center for the beach party.

I had fun but there was a lot of craziness that happened that night.

Here it is in a nutshell-

-the guy selling tickets said that they had run out of 10 OR tickets but VIP tickets were available for 20 OR. 15 minutes later there miraculously more 10 OR tickets for sale, how does that work?

-the bar was way short staffed, it took 45 minutes to get drinks.

-the dress code was wear white but then the guy who stamps hands stamped the inside of my arm and the blue ink ran on me and Cush's shirts, thanks guys.

-some asshole threw a cup of coke into the air and it came down on my back and landed at my feet, someone then kicked the cup over spilling the remaining liquid on my feet, thanks for that.

-some greesey guy grabbed my friends arm and tried to take to his car after telling her husband how "beautiful his wife is", it's not like he didn't know she was married.

-there was a fight and I saw some guy grab 2 empty beer bottles off a table and run towards the fight with them, how scary is that?

All in all the music was alright, dancing on the sand was fun but the crowd sucked, other then my group friends of course.

Maybe I'm getting too old for this stuff but I don't have the patience to be dealing with dodgy men, ink stains on white shirts, and fist fights.

Even though I was excited to go to the beach party, after being on the boat and feeling great, the beach party was the low point of an otherwise perfect day.

I'm in love with a woman.

2009-09-27T12:10:00.004+04:00

So, many of you know that I've been fighting myself in a weight loss battle royale, and that I've been winning.

Officially 40.5 lbs down! 14.5 lbs to go to my first goal and then we'll see how it goes from there.

I have to say that I majorly sabotaged myself this last week (and the week before due to all the birthday celebrations!) through pure ignorance.

Although I was tracking my calories, carbs, fat, protein and fiber, I wasn't paying attention to my sodium intake.

Since Cush and I roasted a turkey last week, I've been eating left over turkey ever since. It's low in fat, carbs and calories, high in protein and I thought it was pretty healthy.

As it so happens the 4 oz of turkey I was eating for dinner has over 1,100 mg of sodium. That's terrible. And just so we all know, 4 oz of chicken breast (boneless, skinless) has about 74 mg of sodium.

That's well over half of my daily allowance for sodium, as it so happens after I researched it.

I was shocked. Now I'm going to have drink my way out of, with water and herbal tea.

So anyway...back to the woman I'm in love with...

Ms. Jillian Michaels.

She's amazing. Amazing! I can't say enough good things about her and I often wonder what she smells like. Is that creepy? It is, isn't it? I want to touch her tummy.

Since I'm in love with her, I watch her on YouTube (a lot) and came across this clip that made me love her just that little bit more.

I can totally relate to the woman in the audience, only, I did give up my glass of red wine. If only I could give up Diet Pepsi and cigarettes...the only 2 vices I have left. I gave up sweets, bread, salty things, Indian, Chinese, and fried foods with no problem..why are Diet Pepsi and cigarettes so tough for me?

So if you can, or are interested, watch the video to see why Jillian Michaels is so freaking smart and awesome and not just in the gym.

In this 8 minutes clip, she gives so much weight loss advice and it's just so practical. I'm telling you, she knows everything about weight loss.

So that's the softer side of Jillian Michaels.

Now for the harder side. And I have to admit I love this side of her.

She's so badass and mean but she makes it work.

So here I'm sitting today with pulled muscles in my back and stomech all thanks to Ms. Michaels.

I have moved onto the hardest level of her 30 Day Shred dvd and it was really hard going yesterday but I did it. All the way through. I thought I was going to quit but she just has this way about her that makes you want to keep going.

It feels good though, just because I know I've made an impact on my body.

I can't wait to go home and buy all her other dvd's.

She's just so awesome!!

Vibrators-I found some! And pictures from my phone.

2009-09-24T17:40:00.003+04:00

This week I had a lot of fun stuff to write about, my birthday, a spur of the moment early Canadian Thanksgiving dinner, and last but certainly not least...The Fateful Misadventure of Bandar Kiran.

But all that will have to wait or maybe not even see the light of day.

I will say this though, my birthday was awesome!

First things first, I found 3 vibrator substitutions at Carrefour. They range from about 7 OR to about 25 OR. Obviously, they are for outside stimulation..and I guess your back as well if you wanted!. You're welcome! (Disclaimer-I have not tried any of them so they might be crap. And no, I have no shame.)

And now some random phone pictures, captions below-

The best goes first... This is a genius product from Equia-Kaak Herbs for fighting constipation..just let your mind wander into the gutter for a moment and have a good chuckle! I did-in the store..for about 2 minutes. I stood there just looking at it and laughing out loud. Cush had to pry them out of my hands and steer me towards the cash register.

I spotted this handsome devil of a Christmas reindeer at LuLu, my first one of the year!

My homemade birthday cake, it was awesome! I think I did a really good job decorating it!

Do you know what that is beside the Panadol?

It's penis desensitizing spray! Basically it's a lidocaine spray that you spray onto your (or your mans) penis and it won't feel a thing! (read-you can go for longer) I think it goes without saying that you want to spray it when it's erect otherwise you're all outta luck.

I'm actually surprised that there was a whole shelf full of this stuff. When I worked at the adult store we could not keep a product like this in stock, I kid you not, it was our most popular item.

Want to know the second most popular? Leather cleaner.

Who doesn't love a cat in a fridge? I know how it looks but he goes in there all by himself. He did the same thing in Toronto, he's wierd like that, I have to leave the door open while he's in there, and he always struggles with me when I try and take him out.

My make shift tool bench used for the installation of such wonderful things like....

...chain locks! I did it all myself and I have to say, I think I did a fabulous job! And no the latch on top does not work, it doesn't match up for some reason.

And that's all for today! I'm off to get ready for a night out for some beers! Ok I won't be drinking the beers, but I might have a glass of wine!

Birthday Revolations

2009-09-13T16:05:00.003+04:00

My birthday is tomorrow and I have the birthday blues a little and a headache that's been around since yesterday.

The only plans I have are to go to dinner with Cush and bake myself a cake (low fat diet cake which is actually pretty tastey) and decorate it with lemon icing dyed pink with food colouring and Barbie cake decorations.

That's right, I'm making myself a little girls cake.

I once read in a cat book (as you do when you are a kitty momma) that cats when domesticated and living inside enjoy a perminant state of kittenhood.

It's true actually, Superfluff is as much a kitten as he was when we got him.

I think the same is true of adults with no children. I'm enjoying a perminant state of teenagehood (for now anyway!).

I still feel like an 18 year old, still listen to the same music and still itch to wear Converse One Stars, bellbottoms and a cartigan. Believe it or not that was the height of style when I was a teenager. Think Curt Cobain, only on a girl.

According to this website, Curt Cobain was wearing black One Stars when he shot himself (or was shot depending on what you believe). Black was my colour of choice as well for One Stars. Well...isn't that a fun fact?

Anyway, I've been downloading music (that I have purchased) from the 90's because I feel super nostalgic for my younger years, stuff like Goo Goo Dolls, Filter, Collective Soul, Black Crowes, Better Than Ezra, Live, The Wallflowers...my goodness I think this is a trait of older people.

I'm hanging on to my youth through music.

What was it that was so great about the 90's? Maybe it's the skipped decade theory that every other decade is better then the one that came before and after it. Say what you will about 80's music, I don't like it.

Anyway, I'm not getting anything done that I had wanted to do today.

I did take a pair of sunglasses (that I bought in England so many months ago) to my glasses place to have the lenses replaced with perscription ones, and the ladies there who always remember me commented on how sexy I look!

Their words, not mine. I felt so flattered! They even asked me for weight loss tips.

Isn't that nice?

Sexy...I never thought of myself as sexy, but I guess that's the funny thing about how you will never see yourself as others see you. Maybe they were just being nice.

I think I'm just rambling now and Cush wanted me to bake him some cookies and I have some fruit that needs to be made into a salad and also I need to workout.

Officially 15 pounds to go before I hit my goal weight, but I suspect that will change for the worse after this weekend. I plan to drink this weekend, but maybe since it's been so long since I've had alcohol one glass will get me sloshed. Just a warning to my fellow birthday girl!

Still rambling....I'm off!

Top 10 reasons I can never be a Dubai rugby wife/girlfriend

2009-09-13T14:15:00.005+04:00

Cush and I went to Dubai this weekend and ended up at a rugby game.

Instead of bitching and whining about the absolute retardation of the drivers, the horrific car accident in Shinas where we think someone must have died, or the fact that on the way back to Oman the road (Dubai - Al Ain road), which was under construction, abrubtly ended without warning, I'm going to post about the wives and girlfriends of Dubai's rugby players.

Reasons I can never be a Dubai rugby wife/girlfriend-

#1- It would never enter my head to wear a short sun dress, see through floaty top, or spaghetti straps to a rugby game.

#2- I get far too into watching the game then to stand around leaning against the field barriers having a chat with my girlfriends and whoever may be calling me on my mobile.

#3- I'm not blond.

#4- High heels and delicate sandles just don't seem right for the occasion.

#5- I don't have to ask what the score is everytime a team scores a try.

#6- I know what teams are playing on the pitch.

#7- I don't have, nor would I ever get a tramp stamp.

#8- I'm not a size 2.

ok I can only think of 8 real reasons.

Other then that it was a fairly uneventful weekend, spent mostly wandering around malls and worrying about traffic.

I'm in funk-y town.

2009-09-08T11:40:00.003+04:00

This week I've been in a bit of a funk.

All the nonesense with the houseguy (houseboy has been upgraded slightly but I'll get to that), the Omanforum thing, some "friend" issues, the parking lot at LuLu, and my birthday coming up next week have all gotten me a bit down in the dumps.

The houseguy...well have you ever been woken up at 4am by water dripping on your forehead? If not, it sucks, if yes, you know what I mean.

Our AC in our bedroom was dripping and we had to call the houseguy. He was pretty good about getting the AC people around to fix it.

To my surprise, instead of knocking (which is all it takes really) he stood in the corridor with the AC guys having a loud conversation until I opened the door.

I thought it was hilarious, but I can only imagine what he was saying to them.

I imagine it was a pep talk... *ok guys, you are about to enter a crazy woman's house, don't touch anything, don't look at anything and whatever you do, don't get dirty foot prints anywhere! She will yell at you! Just go in, fix it and leave as quick as you can."

It went fine, if that was the pep talk, it worked and I'm happy.

Omanforum founder, Neo has taken down my blog from the forum.

I think my only real issue was that people were commenting, and from my blog post that was posted, there was no context to take it from.

The beauty of a blog is that you can look back at other posts and if you have a few hours to kill and are very bord, you can go back and see more of the persons experiences that have lead up to the critical point in the story.

Like a book I guess. But to post that one post out of the blue, if I had read it, I probably would have been appalled and I never thought of it that way. I like that my blog has context.

My experiences in Oman have been shakey at best and it just doesn't ever stop being crazy here for me. The worst thing is that I don't even blog everything that happens....there's like more but I get sick of myself whining about stuff everyone else whines about.

Sometimes I can laugh it off, other times I cry it off.

There is a girl in Canada who used to be my BFF and now, she just isn't. I said to a friend last night, *my best friend still hasn't emailed me", my friend said, "I would like to see some evidence that she is your best friend."

We came to the conclusion that there was no evidence, not since we got married and moved away.

I need to give up and get over this. I told Cush I was going to take her off my Facebook (as suggested by wonderful Eternally Distracted if I'm not mistaken) but Cush said maybe I should wait until we get to Canada to see how things go.

He thinks she's a live in the moment kind of girl and unless I'm in her moment, I'm off the radar.

I think that's crap.

Some people say you know who your friends are when the shit hits the fan, others say you know who your friends are when times are good, I say, you know who your friends are when there's nothing going on.

Right now, I feel like I'm in a lull, and I'm not actually sure who my friends are (not all of them anyway).

I think it's the birthday blues. Or maybe even the Ramadan blues. I feel like I haven't been out in forever.

I just want to go home.

I feel like a kid but I'm feeling pretty homesick. I miss my mom! I miss my favorite shops!

I honestly can't wait to go shopping.

Does anyone else hate the parking lot at LuLu as much as I do?

It honestly drives me crazy. I hate the way I'll be pushing my cart from the shop to my car and people will just keep driving when I'm trying to cross the road ways.

It's hot, I'll be getting sweaty trying to push those wobbly carts that don't steer straight and assholes sitting in their airconditioned cars don't bother to stop and let me carry on.

Is it selfishness, stupidity or what? Like what is it?

I know they see me because they slow down to get a good look as they drive past me at a snails pace.

I hate that parking lot...hate it.

Omanforum stole my identity

2009-09-05T09:09:00.002+04:00

That's right, they stole my identity!

Check this out- http://www.omanforum.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26252 It's my post about the houseboy seeing my bra-less boobies.

So Omanforum has decided to post blogs written by Omani's and ex-pats living in Oman, which is flattering, I must admit, but no one told me and it looks as though I have posted it myself as the user name is Angry In Oman.

And then people have commented on my blog posts in the comments section of the forum, and incorrectly assumed that I had given keys to the houseboy like others who have not read the previous post about the houseboy, and I can't even correct them since they have taken the one user name that I would have picked!

That's rotton!

I don't know who this person is, but I would like it to stop. How can I set things straight if I can't comment? I'm not going to create a new identity for myself.

I'm Angry In Oman damn it (and this is part of the reason why!) and you can't just steal my name and post as me and not let me set things right. This is insanity!

And I don't approve of censorship. I never have. Omanforum is not only stealing my identity but are censoring me as well. This is probably why I set up a blog, so I can let loose and vent and swear all I fuckin want.

You know...if I had been contacted first and perhaps ASKED about this I probably would have said, hey no problem, I'll set up a user account and post some blogs but I wasn't even given the option.

So no I did not give the houseboy keys, he had an extra set made when the landlord lived in this flat, and no I do not employ the houseboy, the landlord does, and yes I expect people to knock on my door when they are coming in. It's just common sense to knock and wait for a reply.

Home and body imrovements

2009-09-01T11:50:00.004+04:00

I want to thank everyone for their support and extremely helpful comments over this weeks events with the houseboy.

Seriously, thanks guys so much!

I don't know where that one muppet got off trying to say that I cannot wear what I want to in my home but whatever, I'm over it.

Thanks Cush for being backing me up here. You're an awesome husband!

I went and bought a chain lock and actually installed it myself while Cush was at work. It was nice to be able to use the drill and drill bits that we bought ages ago.

Now, for anyone who says that little girls who play with Barbies grow up without certain skill sets, they are totally wrong. I like to think I've turned out well rounded.

So that's done!

Also I've had a bit of a relevation.

Those who read my blog often will know that I have been trying to lose some weight, a problem that I've been struggling with ever since I met Cush and decided to eat and drink all my happy feelings.

Not that this is his fault, I just should have controlled myself more.

The thing is, you don't always realize that you're putting on weight, and I know that sounds silly, like didn't I realize my pants (trousers) no longer fit? No, I didn't to be honest.

Alternatively, when you lose weight, you do notice.

When you lose and then stop losing, you also take notice.

I have been working my ass off literally to lose weight.

I do 30 minutes of cardio either jogging on Wii Fit or doing a cardio salsa DVD that I bought years ago and brought to Oman with me and then doing the 30 Day Shred DVD as well.

It adds up to just under an hour of fairly high intensity exercise.

I was stunned to notice last week that my weight was going up again.

Nothing huge but I gained about a pound and a half.

I know how it sounds, like omg a pound and a half! but when you really work hard and are not seeing the desired results it can be heartbreaking and frustrating.

Initially I thought it might be muscle gain because I am gaining some muscle and toning up really well but I did some research and it wasn't adding up.

So last week I signed up to a calorie counting website and started logging my food.

As it so happened, I was eating less then 1,000 calories/day.

I was trying too hard to cut down on my food intake. Way too hard.

But I actually find it difficult to eat a lot, or more then usual because I'm scared that the scale will just keep going up, but actually, since I started eating at least 1,200 calories (the top end being 1,550) I started losing again!

Crazy how the body works.

My strategy now includes eating what I would normally eat during the day, throwing in a couple of apples here and there and then having some low fat ice cream in the evening while I watch The Biggest Loser on MBC 4.

How indulgent is that? Eating ice cream while watching fat people work out! But it's working, I've lost the pound and a half and a about .3 of a pound more, so I'm happy!

As for a Shred update, I'm on day 15 and I've been on Level 2 for about a week and it's going really well.

I'm taking one day off per week to let my body rest and recover.

I can't believe I'm halfway through already. The results, while not staggering on the scale (and now we all know why!) have been pretty good.

I don't doubt that I've gained muscle because I can see it. I can see and feel my hip bones and ribs and when I suck in my gut I can see my stomech muscles a little and I'm super excited about that.

So I guess the lesson of the day is eat ice cream everyday? Works for me!

He did it again!!

2009-08-30T20:24:00.003+04:00

If your eyes are sensitive to matters regarding the F-word or my perky nipples, stop reading. Seriously. It's TMI (too much information) time!

Today was a house cleaning day.

Since I'm the only one home during the day, I tend to clean in little to no clothes. When I bleach stuff I usually go naked so I don't accidentially get bleach on my clothes.

Call me a nudist...I'm not bothered.

As luck would have it, I had just changed into some army print booty shorts and a light blue tank top to make myself a pot of soup.

I just can't bring myself to cook naked, it seems wrong, even if I am the only one eating the food.

I was expecting Cush to be home soon so I didn't think anything strange when I heard the key turn in the lock of our front door. I went and stood about 10 feet away to greet my husband as he came in the door.

I was shocked when it was the houseboy who came in.

He didn't knock again!

I stood there with my hands on my hips remembering yesterdays post and my plan that he would be embaressed and leave right away...but he didn't. He just stood there.

I looked down at my very small outfit and noticed my bra-less boobies were more defined by the fact that my nipples had decided to come and say hello.

Mortified I crossed my arms over my chest and said in a firm voice *you can't just come in! You need to knock first!*

He said he thought I would be sleeping.

-Do I look like I'm sleeping????

-No but boss said I could come in

-You have to knock first!!

-But boss said yesterday I could come

-Yeah but you have to knock!! You know? Knock??

-Boss say ok.

The houseboy calls my husband *boss*, which doesn't bother me, but when I'm home, I'm the fucking boss! I don't give a fuck if he told the houseboy he could come up, that gives him no right to just come right the fuck in like he owns the fucking place! We pay our rent and I expect my damn privacy.

What if I had been sleeping on the couch naked? It wouldn't be the first time.

I turned around, my slightly less jiggly thighs and probably the bottom of my bum wobbling all the way I'm sure...as I said I was wearing booty shorts.. oh it was so bad!

I shut the kitchen door to act as a divider between the roof access and the rest of the flat and ran to our bedroom.

I put on capri's and a bra and my tank top back on.

I called Cush to have a moan but he was right in the middle of something at work and couldn't talk.

I called my mom instead.

My dad picked up the phone and I started crying.

My dad wanted to talk to the houseboy on the phone but considering that I can't even talk to him since he seems not to understand me, I didn't bother.

My dad said he wished he were there so he could have words with him and he suggested I get my baseball bat and next time hit him with it as soon as he comes in and then claim that I thought I was being robbed.

...honest officer, I didn't know it was the houseboy I swear...

It might work.

His next idea was to get a chain lock. My dad said a chain lock will never stop someone from robbing you but it will stop someone from just coming in, even if they have keys.

Good idea dad! *he does not know I blog*

So that's on my project list for tomorrow, buy and install myself, afterall I'm pretty handy with a drill.

When Cush came home, he said flat out to the houseboy that he needs to knock from now on and under no certain terms is he to just come in like that ever again.

What on earth goes through that man's head I will never know!

Excuse me?!

2009-08-29T12:18:00.002+04:00

This weekend was a busy one.

We had parties to attend on both Wednesday and Thursday nights and they were fun and went well.

By Friday we were feeling more then a bit tired, so Cush went to take a nap and I decided to take a long bath.

While I was in the tub our doorbell rang which is just typical, and I decided to ignore it.

Afterall, I was naked, comfortable and up to my neck in bubbles.

I knew Cush wouldn't be able to hear the bell either.

I figured that the person would just come back later. Actually, I knew it was the houseboy (he's been downgraded from houseman again) because we live in a secure building and no one can get in without a key to the main front door.

A little while later when my bath water had started to cool down I got out, wraped myself in a towel and went into the front room to watch tv.

Cush also got out of bed and I told him about the doorbell.

He checked his phone to see if the houseboy had called and he had so Cush called him back.

The houseboy was actually on our roof and there I was sitting in a towel in a room which the houseboy would have to pass through on his way out of the flat.

I ran back to our bedroom and put clothes on and by the time I got back out to the tv room, the houseboy had left.

I sat down and started watching tv.

About 2 minutes later I heard a key turning the lock to our front flat door and the houseboy walked in.

He didn't even knock!

If looks could kill he would be dead. He would be deader then dead! How dare he just come into my home?!

Then he handed me a huge plate of dates which I refused to take.

Cush and I ate a few too many once and you just can't come back from that... it's like getting too drunk on sambuca years ago and you can't even look at a bottle anymore and if you even catch a whiff of it, you will throw up.

Cush came back in the room and had the plate thrust into his hands, he tried to give the date plate back but the houseboy having successfully delivered it, left in a rush.

After he left, I told Cush about how he just came right on in. I was pissed!

At the risk of sounding like my dad, was he born in a barn?

What if I had been sat there naked? Or even in undies? Or bonking my husband on the couch?

Actually, I bet that would have taught him a lesson.

Next time I hear a key turning in my lock, I'm going to whip off shirt, just to make a point!

I don't know the man well, but I would bet money that he would be more embaressed then anything and never be able to look me in the face ever again.

Anyone have a better plan? Keep in mind that every time I try and have words with him, he acts like I'm in the wrong and not him and then threatens to never work for us ever again. Like the time his lackies sprayed water on our plasma...

A man by another name

2009-08-27T10:17:00.002+04:00

Have you ever met someone and then went on to call them another name for 2 years before learning that their name was actually something else and you had it all wrong and that person never bothered to correct you?

Cush and I had been calling our neighbour Sam but really his name is Bob (obviously I changed the name, our neighbour is Indian).

We had been calling Bob Sam for 2 years since we moved here and he never said anything about it.

I even wrote him a thank you card addressed to Sam for a thoughtful thing he did for us, and he never corrected me.

It came about that Cush and I met someone who knew Bob in a professional capacity and after finding out that he is our neighbour, said, *oh you live in the same building as Bob!* we said, *you mean Sam?* and our friend said, *no Bob* and we said *Sam?* *Bob.*

Anyway, I feel so embaressed!

The other night, Cush called out, *hey Bob!* to the man and he turned around and said hi back.

Having said that, he answered to Sam.

Why wouldn't he just say his name was Bob?!

Wierd huh?

Also wierd, I woke up the other night and screamed *I HATE THE MICROWAVE! I HATE THE MICROWAVE! I HATE IT!!*

I wasn't dreaming about our microwave, or any microwave at all for that matter, and also I don't hate ours. Cush was more then a little freaked out and apparently I just rolled over and went back to sleep.

What's that about?

Weight loss journey-full diclosure

2009-08-25T12:08:00.003+04:00

I've been thinking about this a long time and I've decided to come clean and be completely open about the scale numbers...after all they are long gone now!

So going back to last December or so, Cush and I went out to buy a fridge. We found one we liked at E Max and decided to buy it.

Along with the purchase came the opportunity to reach into a clay pot and pull out a prize.

I reached in and pulled out my ticket and it was for an electronic bathroom scale. I showed it to the salesman and he looked embaressed and said I could pick another prize, I said that I wanted the scale and he went and got it.

After we got home I set the scale up and stepped on.

The number was 199.9! I was so shocked! I think that's why the salesman looked embaressed, but really, that was the turning point. Did I mention that I'm 5'4?

I was happy though that the number hadn't gone over 200 lbs.

I immediatly went to work to try and get my weight down.

I set up and used the Wii Fit Cush got me for Christmas and began watching what I ate, for the most part and also joined a gym.

I lost about 10 lbs and then stagnated.

That's when I started doing Fat Smash, still one of the best diets ever! I managed to lose a further 20 lbs in about 2 months bringing my weight down to 169.9

Then I plateaued again. My weight would not budge.

During this time I heard people say things to me that sort of justified my weight but I still wasn't happy.

Cush and I then went to England and before we left we ordered Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and when we got back, after gaining about 6 lbs I got to work.

Here's a little sample of the work out-

It's really hard! I've pushed through and am now on day 9 and my weight is down to 163.9. Better then that, my body is a lot tighter and more muscluar (but still feminine!) and clothes that I bought and were tight 2 years ago before I left Canada, now fit!

So my official goal is 145 because my curves are really important to me, I like my boobs and my bum and I don't want to lose them.

You know what that means? I have less then 20 lbs to go! It also means that I've lost almost 40 lbs so far.

I honestly think that trip to E Max gave me such a huge wake up call.

I don't want to be a big girl.

I'm just so pleased with myself!!!

I can't even wait to go home to Canada for some clothes shopping!

I feel so good!!!!

Repost-How to survive Ramadan for non-Muslims

2009-08-23T13:58:00.002+04:00

I said I would repost this post from last year so here it is:

I'm going to be very honest. I don't fast, I don't give up alcohol and I don't give up day time lunch break one on one's with my husband (known as *Noon-ers*) during Ramadan.

I find it very difficult to obey the rules of Oman during this time.

I usually consume 2 1.5L bottles of water throughout my typical day, plus 2 or 3 cups of tea, plus 2 or 3 cans of soda, gum, mints, etc. I'm a very thirsty girl prone to a dry mouth.

It's not to say that I don't respect Muslims and their customs, I do respect them, but I'm not one, so I don't particularly see why these rules apply to me. I'm not out to rub it in anyone's face or anything, I just want to live my life by my own ways.

If I'm thirsty, I want to have a drink, no matter where I am or what time of day it is. I always wonder how the construction workers cope. Working so hard out in the sun all day without drinking or eating as much as usual. The Chinese guys in my neighbourhood are in for a rude awakening.

What really scares the crap out of me is the driving, more so then usual. Last year, I got here on Sept. 11 and I think Ramadan started on the 14th.

Cush and I were driving around a lot trying to find a place to live, and cars and set ourselves up etc. The amount of accidents we almost got into was insane. The amount of accidents we saw on the road was insane.

However, we got ourselves into a rythem so that we could cope.

After we moved into our new place, we would go to the shops every night at sundown for shopping. Carrefour, The Sultan Center, Al Fair, LuLu, all empty between 6pm and 9pm everyday for a month. In a way it was almost perfect having the shops to ourselves.

We bought everything we needed for our flat almost, of course not a single item was delivered until after Ramadan, and so our huge flat was as empty as our wallets.

Since Cush and I had only got married a few months before our marriage certificate hadn't been processed by the Canadian government yet and so I couldn't get my Resident Visa right away. I had to leave the country once a month in order to get a new tourist visa until all my documents came. It was the perfect excuse to go to Dubai for some Ikea shopping.

Ramadan in Dubai was totally different then it was in Oman. All the bars were open at night and fast food restaurants were open during the day. It was mind blowing for me because the UAE and Oman are both somewhat liberal Muslim countries that have many ex-pats living in them, but they are still so different.

I have a bit more respect for Oman then I do for Dubai in this aspect. It's hard to explain, but I guess Dubai just seems like a slut. It's puts it out at the cost of it's integrity. Oman keeps itself chaste out of self respect. Oman keeps it real. (I want to assert that I have no issues with women who have healthy sexual appetites.)

So, in Dubai, Cush and I went out on the piss and ended up with monster hangovers. I think we didn't put into full consideration that it really was Ramadan because the bars were open. Ramadan was very new to us and we didn't really understand the differences between Dubai and Oman at the time.

We left our hotel the next morning and went to the mall where Ikea is (Festival City). Hungover and hungry we spotted that Buger King was open. We went for it, ordered, paid and sat down to eat our food. Just as my Whopper Jr. was almost at my lips the little cashier lady started yelling for me to stop. I did. She said we couldn't eat our food in the restaurant. I looked around at all the other customers and for the first time took in that they were all adults feeding their children, and not actually eating themselves. And they were all staring at Cush and I. Woops....

We packed up and having no where else to go, we went and sat in our car and ate, very discretely.

But I mean frankly, what did they think? What is the perception here? Are we honestly all going to pretend that people are going to buy Burger King and take it home, put it in the fridge and then reheat it later for Iftar? There is no sense pretending.

Driving during Ramadan is a huge thing. People don't seem to to fully appreciate that your car is a powerful machine that requires a lot of concentration and attention to operate.

Cars are a priviledge, not a right, and if you're not careful, you can turn your car into a weapon. I sound like my dad. But it's true.

I have enough issues with almost having car accidents on an almost daily basis as it is. People with kids running around in their cars, talking on the phone, fixing their musar or lehaf or just generally being a spaz. Throw into the mix people who have not eaten or taken their medication. This scares me.

Side effects of not eating include:
-light headedness
-nausea
-lack of concentration
-lack of energy
-short temper
-fatigue
-dizziness
-muscles aches
-headaches

I won't even get into side effects of people not taking their medications. Just things to keep in mind while on the road.

Tips and Reminders

-No food, liquid or cigarettes are to be consumed in public during daylight hours by adults
-Eat, drink and smoke very discretely in private

-No alcohol will be sold in either hotels, bars, or alcohol shops for 1 month
-Stock up before hand or make friends with someone with a stockpile

-The shops will be rammed during the day and late at night
-Shop while everyone else is breaking their fast at sundown

-People will be driving like lunatics
-Avoid driving as much as possible

-Business all but grinds to a hault
-Do not expect to get anything done during Ramadan

-Be more patient and tolerant
-Keep in mind how you feel when you haven't eaten in hours

The last and final tip is one that I am taking to heart.

-Make it a holiday for you too Cush and I are planning a trip back home to see our friends and family mid-September for a few weeks.

Needless to say, we're super excited. Ramadan mubarak, assalamu alaykum, I mean it from my heart.

Obviously this year Cush and I will be around throughout the whole of Ramadan, but still if you can get away for a couple of weeks, I say do it!

If you can't get away, please drive defensively, check your mirrors more often then usual and just be more aware then usual of other cars on the road.

Muslims who will be driving please keep in mind (especially on your way to Iftar!) that if you get into a car accident, it will take more time standing around waiting for the ROP to show up and that will delay your evening meal. Drive safe, because driving all fast and stupid will actually not get you there much quicker.

What's a few minutes in the long run, eh?

Ramadan foods and a Toronto take down

2009-08-19T10:14:00.004+04:00

So, I've come up with a sure fire way to know when Ramadan is coming- custard, jello and dream whip can be bought in lots of 10 and Vimto and Rose Water can be found everywhere.

Honestly I have no idea what ya'll do with it all but that's up to you.

One of my very first memories of Muscat, the first time Cush brought me to LuLu was maybe my first full day here I think.

I was pretty jet lagged and working off the effects of the 2 sleeping pills I had taken for my flight.

1 pill knocked me out until I got to Heathrow where I did some shopping at Harrod's and Boots and then the other pill knocked me out until I got to Abu Dhabi (maybe it was Dubai I can't remember since I just sat on the run way) and I made friends with some tourists but couldn't tell them where I was staying or my phone number because I didn't know.

Anyway, Cush brought me to LuLu to use the currency exchange since I had a few thousand US dollars (which I changed from Canadian before I left) that needed to be changed into Rials.

After that we went into LuLu and it was all bulk boxes of jello and custard and dream whip and Vimto and Rose Water.

I was like wow! Because who doesn't like custard and jello and dream whip?

Add in some raspberries and lady fingers and you've got a trifle!

And then, someone dropped a few bottles of Vimto.

I can't even tell you what a mess there was, and I was even more surprised that a man came and cleaned it up with a cardboard box and 2 pieces of cardboard to sweep it up with.

Since I'm Canadian, I was unfamiliar with Vimto, but that stuff is seriously purpley red.

The whole point of my post was that I can't help but feeling that stuff like fresh fruit and vegetables, chicken breasts and lean cuts of meat should also be packaged in bulk to promote more healthy eating during the holy month of Ramadan.

Obviously I know desserts are yummy and people like to eat them but obesity and diabetes are on the raise in Gulf countries and I can't help but think this adds to the problem.

Diabetes is for life and being very overweight really sucks...just things to think about.

And no, not eating all day does not cancel out the crazy food orgy you indulge in at night.

In other news, I found this article (with a video of the whole thing!)from my favorite local Toronto news station on the web.

Famous Kurdish Singer Claims OPP Used Excessive Force During Highway Takedown

He’s a household name to millions of Kurdish people, and has performed with international stars like Peter Gabriel, Sting, and Paul Simon, but singer/poet and television idol Sivan Perwer received none of the star treatment he’s used to when Ontario Provincial Police officers pulled him and his crew over on Sunday after receiving a gun call from a worried motorist.

Apparently, members of Perwer’s crew were filming him in a black Hummer while driving back from Niagara Falls, when a passing motorists mistook an appropriately named ‘shotgun microphone’, for the real thing.

What followed was a tense takedown on Highway 427, most of which was captured on film by a CityNews viewer. The 53-year-old Perwer is now claiming the OPP were excessive in their treatment of the situation, something Sgt. Dave Woodford vehemently denied.

“When we receive any type of call like that we have to act in the public safety, and the public interest as well, and a high risk takedown was performed at that point. We proceeded as per OPP policy. Until we found out it was safe, we have to act that way,” he maintains.

Perwer now wants a formal apology, and his driver on Sunday thinks its well deserved. “Can you imagine more than 15 cops, holding us with guns, they put our face on the road with everyone watching us. I thought they are going to kill us,” recalls Riza Bildik.

“Tomorrow I’m going to meet my lawyer, I have to, because they broke our honour, not just me and him, Kurdish people.”Perwer also wants an apology on behalf of all members of the Kurdish community and has spoken to a lawyer about the incident.

He was planning to leave the country on Wednesday, but now says he wants to stay until this is cleared up.

I have a few things to say here...

First of all, bravo to the people who called the police about a gun in a car, even though it turned out NOT to be a gun, you cannot risk having guns out and about.

Toronto is a city plauged with gun violence, mostly little gang banger thugs in black SUV's running around shooting people for the most trivial reasons, like $5 drug debts and disrespect.

Secondly, nothing in that video looked like extreme force to me, not for a gun call. It all looked by the book.

Third, what are these guys smoking that they thought the OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) would shoot them? OPP are well trained, and disciplined. It's not worth the paperwork and stress for them to shoot people for no reason. They know better.

Fourth, what is it with honour? If you watch the video, at the end the man said his honour was broken, not just the man and the singer, but ALL KURDISH people. That doesn't fly in Canada I'm afraid, not like it does out here.

Your lawyer, is going to laugh at you buddy.

Fifth, the officer said they apologised already. One apology should be enough. And the apology was made public via the news broadcast, get over it already!

Sixth, I didn't see 15 police officers on the video footage. I saw maybe 6.

This whole thing is just craziness.

The cops don't care who you are, where you're from, if they get a gun call, they are going to respond appropriately.

The lesson of the day, don't use a microphone that looks like a gun, use a microphone that looks like a microphone.

I outed myself

2009-08-18T11:18:00.002+04:00

Last night I attended my second surprise birthday party of the year.

I love surprise parties, the look on the surprised persons face is always priceless, and as a guest it's nice to feel a part of something that someone will always remember.

Cush and I were talking to the birthday girl and she brought up what blogs she liked and she happened to mention my blog ( as well as Muscat Confidential, Muscat Jet Driver and new guy Muscat Mutterings) and how it made her giggle.

I told her that it was my blog and she said I made her night.

That made me happy that I know someone who really likes my blog. I felt special.

This lady obviously knows how to read my blog.

I think sometimes that since I called my blog Angry in Oman that people just take it that I'm ALWAYS bitching in my posts and that's simply not the case.

But people sometimes don't see that and then I get comments like *damn you're angry* and really I'm not all the time and I can't see why people don't see that.

Maybe people read with a hard internal voice which would make everything sound harsh. It's like people don't really read what I write, they just look at the surface.

But whatever, I suppose people who stop by can think what they like.

I dunno, I'm thinking about getting a new blog title and starting over.

Going back to my post yesterday, I found a plane ticket that's a pretty good price and I called my mom to let her know that I would be coming in October and staying for a month. I'll be there for both Thanksgiving and Halloween.

My mom was excited that I said I would be home for a month and asked how long Cush was going to stay for.

I said that Cush wasn't going to be coming because I wasn't sure about him getting the time off and then paying for the ticket on top of the fact that Cush *might* need to go home to England and that we weren't sure if we could afford for him to come especially with our rent due in October, we would be a bit financially tight around that time.

My mom said that my birthday present was actually for her to fly the both of us home and I just must have missed that part.

Isn't that awesome?!

My parents are really great sometimes.

I'm super excited.

I'm actually more excited about the shopping then I am about seeing my friends and family.

I'm terrible!

Plus I'm not really sure about the BFF. I haven't heard from her in over a month even though I've sent her an email.

I can't figure her out.

I know I said I was done with all this nonesense but I dunno, I'm going to have to tell her I'm coming.

Especially if I want to see my old boss from the adult store (who sent my a Facebook message out of the blue this morning) who is still friends with BFF and so I can't see one without the other one knowing that I was home.

I guess my worst fear is that we'll have issues again and honestly I just want to avoid that because it absolutely RUINED my trip home the last time.

But I can't imagine going home to my parents without taking a trip into Toronto (45 minutes from my home town). I love Toronto.

Leaving the city to move here was a hard choice to make.

Funny enough, we left the city because we knew we wanted to live there.

Even though Cush and I made wicked money for 2 people under 25 (over $100,000 before tax) we still lived paycheck to paycheck and knew we could never save enough for a down payment for our dream house.

So I'm totally looking forward to the shopping.

I plan to buy:
-jeans from Old Navy (I LOVE OLD NAVY!!!)
-ballgown from either Fairweather or Sears (yeah seriously, Sears)
-tops from Suzy Shier
-underwear from La Senza

My list for Walmart is too lengthy to mention but it includes a lot of cold medication and Buckleys.

If you're unfamiliar with Buckley's cough medicine, it's really powerful stuff, it tastes like pine trees and deisel fuel.

I found this Buckley's commercial on Youtube, it looks like some kids audio visual class assignment. It explains a lot.

The looks on the guys faces are somethng I can relate to. No matter how many times I've taken this medicine, it still catches me off gaurd.

Well I'm glad the tickets aren't costing us anything because I plan to spend a small fortune!

Housework and birthdays

2009-08-17T11:57:00.009+04:00

I'm not sure what's happened but I never would have thought that I would be busier making a home then I was when I was going to an office everyday.

Life can be funny like that.

Last Thursday morning I caught a TV show called Anthea Turner's The Perfect Housewife.

I can only say that I was inspired. Really inspired.

If you've never seen the show, it's Anthea Turner and 2 women who are not even close to being perfect housewives.

They have laundry piled everywhere, dirty floors, and everything is basically mismanaged in their homes.

Anthea comes into their homes and gives them pointers on how to clear up clutter and dirt and then awards one of them The Perfect Housewife award at the end after she goes and sees their houses at the end of the week.

Not that my home has ever been such a shit state like those ladies houses, but it made me realize that Cush and I have a lot of clutter and somethings aren't ..well..perfect.

My first task was our walk in closet. I organized everything and moved some of our sweaters and Cush's much neglected suit jackets into the guest room closet.

Being slightly OCD, my own cupboard in our closet has always been organized into -
-work shirts
-skirts and capri's
-long trousers
-jeans
-t-shirts
-fancy blouses
-clubbing tops
-gym wear
-pajamas
-sweaters (now moved)
-bathing suits
-ball gowns

Shoes go on the bottom shelf from fancy to flip flop.

I took the liberty and did the same with Cush's clothes.

-office wear
-t-shirts
-rugby shirts
-polo shirts
-trousers
-jeans

All his shorts, sweaters, bathing suits and gym wear are now neatly folded into according piles in our cupboard which has shelves.

He has 2 of the 4 shelves, I have 1 shelf for my underwear and the 4th shelf has our towels and other stuff.

After cleaning all the shelves and wiping out all the dust and cat fur I ended up with a small bag of garbage. I couldn't believe how much crap was in there. Old boarding pass receipts and those pieces of paper that you get when you drive to Dubai with the number 2 on them and even old hotel bills.

I then decided to tackle one of the rooms in our house that I hate.

It was meant to be a kitchen but since the landlord stuck the 2 units together, he ripped out the kitchen and turned it into a storage room.

There's all kinds of stuff in there from extra candles, sports gear, camping gear, off roading gear, the fold down back seats from the 4x4 and the thing I hate the most...the boxes from our tvs.

I decided to do something about the boxes. Cush is set on keeping them, which is fine but I hate looking at them so I hauled them out and somehow managed to throw them up onto the little storage area above our servants room (cat litter box room since we have no servants).

I'll tell you, those boxes were not light.

So going back a bit, I'm on a bit of a quest to be a better housewife. This is afterall my job for now, and I suppose it needs to be treated like one.

I'm sure Cush doesn't care if I sit in front of the tv for 8 hours a day but I feel good when I get stuff done, it's rewarding actually. I feel more rewarded now for doing good work in my home then I did when I went to the office everyday.

Last night we celebrated a friends birthday. I thought about it and considered that I could have bought her a box of chocolates for her birthday but I decided to bake instead.

I made 2 kinds of cookies and also a Canadian treat, Butter Tarts.

Everyone loves Butter Tarts and it makes me happy to see people loving what I made them.

They take bloody ages to make though, about 2 and a half hours from start to finish, but it's so worth it.

Unfortunatly, this birthday dinner came at the wrong time, because I decided on the weekend that my birthday is a month away and my gift to myself is going to be a better body

Since I own this DVD-

I thought I would put it to the test. Not that I expect to lose 20 pounds but I do expect to lose a few and tone up a bit.

I've done 2 days so far (Saturday and Sunday) and already I've pulled my bum, thighs, stomech and arm muscles.

This DVD is really, really tough and I'm only on level 1.

But I'm pledging to do 30 days of it, all in a row.

I do have some good news. My mom called and I guess she misses me a lot because she's and my dad are getting me plane tickets for my birthday!

Now I just have to decide when I'm going to go home.

I'm thinking very strongly about going after Eid for a month, just so that it's not too cold and when I come back, the weather in Muscat will be just getting into perfection. And it`ll mean that I`ll be in Canada for Thanksgiving which would be really nice.

Coffee morning and biological clock musings

2009-08-12T10:53:00.004+04:00

This week, I did the inevitible for unemployed ladies who live in the Sultanate, fortunate enough as I am to have a husband who works a well paid job.

I joined the other ladies of leisure and went for my first coffee morning.

At first I was filled with fear and questions of what exactly goes on at these things raced through my head.

Would we discuss the war? World politics? Climate change? Books written by authors of a certain pedigree?

I could bluff my way through any of that certainly.

Or would we talk about crafts, children and pot roast recipes?

I could bluff through those as well.

But one resounding fear kept with me.

Growing up, one of my favorite movies was Fried Green Tomatoes. It's a heartwarming story about friends, sounds lame, but really, really great movie. I haven't read the book.

In the movie, Kathy Bates' character is trying to deal with being middleaged, overweight, unable to stop eating chocolate and in a bit of rut. Her son has moved out and her husband has become *comfortable*.

She has a friend who takes her to a women's group, where the women are given a mirror and told to look at their vaginas.

The clip can be found about 7 and a half minutes in.

Thankfully, nothing like that happened, and 2 women I know were going so we all went together.

The coffee morning was held at the Bosch residence in Haramel, which is out by the marina.

They have such a lovely house and Mrs. Bosch was even there to sign copies of her and her husbands memoires, which I thought was nice.

Aside from coffee, tea, juice and water, cucumber and egg salad sandwhiches were served as well as (I think) banana bread and samosas.

There was also a table with some used books for sale.

I managed to pick up 4 books for 2 OR ($6 CAD) which I thought was a bargain.

Everyone was all in their groups of friends chatting and I was grateful that I had my own little group to retreat to.

I honestly don't know how I would have done if I had gone on my own but I did meet a couple of women and had little chats with them. I was easily the youngest woman there aside from a tween who went with her mother.

Growing up my parents were always going to parties and having parties at their house and wierd as it sounds, I do well with adults, even though I am one now, I suppose I mean older adults.

Sometimes I think I feel so young, like an 18 year old and I feel so immature and other times I feel like I'm so old and life is slipping past me.

The 2 women and I ended up discussing babies.

Everyone wants to know when Cush and I will sprog up it seems.

I have this resounding fear that my life will be over if we have a child.

Cush will not get enough sleep at night, I'll end up gaining all the weight I just managed to lose (speaking of which I lost another 5 lbs!), my hair will go unwashed and turn into dreadlocks, I'll start wearing sweatpants on a full time basis and my sex life will consist of unspontaneous planned sex nights once a week where we end up just cuddling and falling alseep because we're just too tired.

Cush and I will be broke from purchasing diapers, bottles, pumps, cribs, strollers, toys and whatnot, which will then litter every surface in our home.

Being broke will mean no exotic vacations to exotic places we always wanted to visit, thus putting off trips until we're old and the child has moved on to university which we have to pay for, meaning b-b-budget vacations and staying in 2 star motels...

Superfluff will probably become public enemy #1 as I would be terrified of him suffocating the baby while it slept...

Sorry...what are the positives of having children?

Seriously, I can't think of any right now.

I know that one day, I will have to give in to my selfish ways and get over it, and I may very well regret writing this post, but I can't see why having kids is a good idea.

My own mother has said to me that knowing what she knows now, she would not have had children.

That's tough to hear, I have to say, considering that except from the brief 4 years when I was 14-18 I was a bit rebelious (never arrested, no teen pregnancy issues), but other then that, I was a pretty good kid.

On the other hand, I have a brother.

I haven't ever written about him because he's not so much a part of my life and hasn't been for about 20 years.

From about the age of 8 I was pretty much an only child except for standard family holidays when my brother could either be bothered or was was able to join us.

He has caused my parents and I a huge amount of stress and I imagine that if I mothered a son like him, I would probably regret having children as well.

Maybe it's the kind of thing you just have to go for. If you overthink it, you just see the things you have to give up and not see the positives.

I look at it like skydiving.

It seems like a good idea when you're on the ground but way up in the plane you start doubting that your parachute will open and the ground looks like it's just waiting for you to smack into it.

I guess this baby thing has been playing on my mind awhile, afterall, I'm going to be 28 next month and I've been on birthcontrol since I was 15. Women can't just keep taking it forever, it's not healthy.

I know Cush doesn't know what he wants to do either. I think he feels like he *should* have a child because that's what people do, and I know he doesn't really want to think about it or talk about it anymore just because he's been getting some pressure from his parents as well.

Sorry for bringing it up again sweetie!

I just feel like I'm reaching the top of the crescent of my life and pretty soon it'll all be downhill.

I feel like timing is everything and I don't want to be a super old parent.

I don't want to be a 40 year old chasing a kid around a playground.

There is a desire to have children and at the same time all I see is the negative.

TV delights

2009-08-06T12:05:00.004+04:00

This morning I was treated to one of the most brilliant delights ever.

I flicked on the TV and ran through some channels when I settled on MBC Max. I was taken in by a young man wearing a black and white jacket with red maple leafs on the sleeves.

It was one of those Canadian made for TV movies funded (at least in part) by the Canadian government.

What I love about them is that they are filmed in Canada with all Canadian casts. The plots are simple, as are the sets, and the actors don't over act.

The movie was called 8 Days to Live and centered around a 19 year old man who lived with his parents but had gone missing.

The premis was simple, the young man goes missing and must be found before 8 days, because after 8 days, he would die of starvation, thirst, or exposure, if he had not been murdered. His parents try and trace his movements with the help of the police.

The movie is filmed in British Columbia, which is absolutely stunning.

I've never been there and it's always sort of shamed me that I feel like I've seen more of the rest of the world then I have of my home country.

It gave me so much joy to see my home country and the Canadian flag flying...lovely.

Last week I was treated to another delight.

For whatever reason, I flicked on ESPN America and there was a Toronto Blue Jays baseball game on, they were playing Tempa Bay and the Jays were up by 8 - 0. The best bit was that the game was being played at the Rogers Center (formerly the Sky Dome) in Toronto, which I've been to many, many times.

I took a picture-

So I was watching the game with Cush, who eventually had to go to bed since he had to get up for work in the morning, but I stayed faithful.

Eventually the Rays (?) caught up with the Jays in the 9th and the score was 9-9.

It was the bottom of the 9th, 2 outs, bases loaded with the Rays up to bat, and then it cut to commercial.

I sat and waited for the game to come back on.

I was more patient then usual and waiting while surfing the internet for the game to come back on.

I ended up waiting about 20 minutes, but the game never came back on.

I was so mad!

It ended up that the Jays choked and lost 9-10, as I read in the news the next day.

Other then that, I'm still sick and have been taking it easy.

Reading

2009-08-04T14:45:00.006+04:00

I've come down with something.

It started with a sore throat which started late in the evening Saturday, it's progressed to my sinus' and I guess that means I'm getting better.

I know about 3 people who have had the same sort of thing, Cush being one of them.

I hate being sick, I guess everyone does.

Since getting sick I've re-read all the Twilight books by Stephenie Meyer. I only just bought them in June when we were in England but they are so addictive and entertaining.

Cush took this as a sign that I needed some new books so he dragged me out to Borders last night to get some new ones.

I picked up One Fifth Avenue by Candice Bushnell (of Sex and the City fame) and The Choice and The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks (of The Notebook fame).

I like to keep my reading light and fluffy, just like me.

I also have been reading classic novels which you can pick up at Borders for less then 1OR ($3 CAD) because I read modern fluff so fast that if I didn't slow down and read cheap classics I would literally take Cush to the poor house.

To be honest, I don't really get classics. They don't grip me the way modern books do.

Maybe it's because I prefer to sum up the description of ones petticoats in one or 2 sentences instead of a whole paragraph or page.

Right now I'm reading 3 books.

The last 200 pages of Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer, One Fifth Avenue by Candace Bushnell and The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

I need a new series of books that I can get passionate about, something fun.

Any suggestions?

Salalah- I went there!

2009-08-01T12:15:00.005+04:00

After reading Sythe's Top 10 Tips on Salalah on his Muscat Mutterings blog, Cush and I decided to make the trip down this weekend.

Our plan was fairly simple, go and relax in the cool weather.

We got to Muscat airport Wednesday and some construction workers started waving at us. Then when I got out of the car, they clapped, like a standing ovation. I turned around, but it was just Cush and I.

I couldn't help but wonder, why they did that, and also what is the social etiquette when that happens to you.

Do you curtsey? I don't because I find it wierd and I don't want to encourange such ludicrous behaviour.

We got our suitcases out of the trunk and made sure everything was locked and went on our way.

As we were waiting to have our luggage scanned for the first time, there was a man bringing in some supplies like paper products and I'm not sure what else he had.

But an Aquafina bottle that he had resting on top of his cart fell on the ground and he made no moves to go and go get it and he was pretty overloaded with the stuff he was trying to bring through.

I went over and got the bottle and as soon as I picked it up I noticed there was something distinctly wrong with it.

First, the liquid in the bottle was HOT and second and most disturbing of all, it was yellow.

Fuckin hell...

I exclaimed, *is this pee!? OMG I'm touching pee!!*

Cush told me it wasn't pee but then the man who belonged to the bottled took it off me quickly and apologised.

I couldn't stop saying, *eww I touched pee, I think that was pee in there*

And even the security officer looked at me, shook his head, made a grimmace and then made the hand washing motion.

Thank goodness I had my hand sanitiser in my purse, I used it immediately.

Cush kept telling me it wasn't pee. But I'm so sure that it was. What else would be?

We walked through all the check points and ticket desk with me wringing my hands and wigging out.

Once through, we were sectioned off into the Domestic Flights area. Cush and I looked at each other and groaned thinking that we would have to sit for an hour and a half in a dingy box, but we ended up walking through a door, and there was a woman standing there asking where we were flying. After it checked out that we were going to Salalah (again) we were ushered through another door which lead to stairs and the rest of the airport.

I stopped at the first toilet we found so I could wash my hands. I washed them thoroughly about 5 times with extra soap.

(as a side story, totally irrelevant to my trip to Salalah, but totally relevant to the pee in the bottle story, there was a radio show back home that Cush and I would listen to as we got ready for work in the mornings. It was the Dean Blundell show, basically comedy and some music, but he had a segment called *what happened?* and people would call in with embaressing stories of thngs they had done or had done to them and the worst one would get a prize. One story, that totally resonates was a bunch of guys driving around in a car, one of them had a Slurpee and then peed in the empty cup (as you do I suppose) and then tossed it out the window at some young teenager who happened to be standing on a corner. The guys then drove around the block yelling at the young man, *IT'S PISS!!!! IT'S PISS!!!!* until they got bored of harassing the young man. Such a lame story, but the words *IT'S PISS!!!* kept going through my head the rest of the time we were in the airport, even though it was at least 2 years ago that I heard that story on the radio)

Then we hit the duty free to look around at all the cool stuff they have in there which I think oddly includes large sacks of powdered milk. I don't know why they sell that in there.

We picked up a carton of smokes and some candy. It's a good thing to know that you should bring your own booze in your checked luggage (if you drink) because you can't buy duty free alcohol for domestic flights, which is the same world over I think.

After all that I noticed that my lip gloss had somehow been lost and I had to go back and buy some and I was not at all happy with my choice. I chose a Nivea lipgloss of some sort but it was super sticky and gross.

All I really wanted was a Lipsmacker or even a Labello but they didn't have either.

Anyway, we got on the plane and it took off and landed without incident.

We got out of the airport and immediately into a cab which took us to the B&B we stayed at.

The air was cool and misty and felt really good.

As soon as we got to the B&B we asked the cabby to wait for us as we went and changed into some dressier clothes and headed back out to the Crowne Plaza for some drinks.

The pub was pretty nice but the drinks were pricey.

We ended up meeting some cool people who were new to Muscat and we sat and drank and gave them the standard low down (do not give the finger to anyone, no matter what what they do to you, etc.).

Then some drunken marines stopped by our table and one of them seemed to take an immediate disliking to me.

He went on about how Canada wants to be America (lies) and Canadians can't drink alcohol (lies) and on and on until I literally turned my back on him.

I'd had enough.

Cush had gone to the loo leaving me with our 2 new friends and the drunken eejit (he sounded Irish but claimed to be Scottish). The drunken eejit then started rubbing my neck and shoulders, never the kind of girl to make a scene, I started shouting, *he's touching me!!! there's touching going on!!!* and his hands went back in his lap.

Then Cush came back, and the drunken eejit moved along.

At about 2am we went back to the B&B. The man who ran the place had stayed up for us to let us in and ask when we wanted breakfast in the morning.

After all the details had been ironed out we went to bed and slept until about 9 or so.

Breakfast went well enough for being hungover and we decided to walk down the beach to the Crowne Plaza again in the afternoon.

The walk was nice enough, cool and misty, the beach was perfect white sand with no rocks but shells stuck together in pairs, and a few crabs. The waves were enormous and so loud that I couldn't hear what Cush was saying.

We finally made it to the Crowne and washed our feet and shoes off at an outdoor shower and settled in to have lunch at the beach side restaurant.

All the plants were green and healthy looking, I have to say the Crowne has a very lovely and lanscaped garden to walk through.

While we sat there a man approached and gave us a flyer for the Thursday night party in one of the bars. We decided that we would go *what else were we going to do with ourselves?* and Cush sent a text message to our new friends from the previous night to let them know our plans in case they were interested.

We also had an offer from the man running the B&B to make us dinner. We decided to accept. The man was going to make us Biryani and other such Indian delights.

After sitting lazily in the mist we decided to get a move on back to the B&B. This time we decided to take the route through town because walking on the sand was hard work and Cush is still recovering from his surgery.

On our way back we passed by a wedding tent with a few men sitting around. We were invited to have some food but declined the offer because I'm not sure if I was included. It looked like a men's event, and while I've been shown some amazing hospitality to be invited to men's gatherings before, I usually go ignored and I find it frustrating.

I was also surprised on our way back to see a lot of vacant and dilapidated buildings on the street we walked along, but also there were a lot of new buildings going up.

We passed by one spectacular abandonment featuring graffiti which proclaimed 2-Pac Forever.

Back at the B&B we took and lazy nap and then got ready for our evening. Dinner didn't disappoint. There was chicken biryani, dal, raita and salad.

We also opened the bottle of Veuve Clicquot that we bought for our anniversary.

The man made a tremendous amount of food and we felt so quilty after our first serving that we hadn't made much of a dent in any of the bowls and so we had seconds, plus it was super yummy.

After dinner we walked back down to the Crowne Plaza to meet the people we had met the previous night only to find that the woman had felt sleepy and wasn't up for coming out.

So we chilled with the guy and had some drinks and good conversation, but after a bit, the guy decided he also needed some sleep and so Cush and I went to the party night ourselves.

Upon entry, it seemed so odd that Cush had made (well suggested) that I cover my back and arms with my pashmina, because almost all the women in there were half naked.

Seriously, mini skirts, belly tops, dresses that can only be defined by the word scandelous and some seriously high heels.

I was wearing jeans, a low backed top which had short sleeves and flip flops.

If I had only known, I would have worn a halter top cut down to my belly button and booty shorts. I was seriously over dressed.

I don't even think I'm doing it justice. Picture your typical Thursday night at Rock bottom and mulitply the flesh factor by at least 10 and that's how it was.

I couldn't believe it.

I had this perception and perhaps Cush had it too that things would be more conservative in Salalah but we were both way off.

We danced for a bit and then decided to sit down and people watch, after all, with all the flesh and dirty dancing it was kind of like a soft porn movie. Sort of.

As we were sitting, I felt a lurking prescence over my right shoulder. I looked up and it was the drunken eejit from the previous night smiling down at me, thank goodness he just kept on going.

Yesterday we slept the day away until it was time to come home.

The airport in Salalah seemed to be full of people who were unfamiliar with air travel. One guy was perplexed at the whole luggage screening, take of your shoes and remove all metal objects from your pockets thing and kept setting the metal detector off.

The man next to us on the plane explored his paper *barf bag* with suspicion and then went on to tell me that I could put my purse up top, like I didn't know... but I prefer to have it at my feet.

It was nice to get away and relax and see something different but I'm glad to be home again.

SuperFluff and the troublesome GTI

2009-07-29T12:28:00.005+04:00

My cat, Super Fluff is hilarious. Our relationship since I lost my job has evolved quite significantly. Not that I didn't enjoy him before, but now we're like best friends.

But he's not always easy to love.

I love him when he's sleeping or when he wakes up and stretches and makes cute little kitty stretching noises. I love him when he's in helper mode, he and I have assembled many an item from Ikea together.

I love him when he's in cuddle mode and wants to be held and jiggled like a baby.

I love him when he follows me around meowing, just making conversation I think. I love him when he tries to drink my bath water, while I'm still in there and how he comes to help me water the plants in the evenings.

I love him when comes to lay beside me when I'm playing Rock Band, until I hit a high note a little roughly and he stalks off in a huff with his ears twitching.

I love how he has super cat instincts and wants to climb up things, bookshelves, fridges and even on top of the kitchen cupboards. He likes to be as high up as he can get.

I love how he comes to greet me (and anyone else for that matter) at the door upon arrival. The Houseman has even taken to saying *hello cat!* when he comes in. When we have to have workers in the Houseman speaks to them in a flurry of (sorry I don't know which Indian dialect he speaks!) and all I can make out is the word *cat* being said about 20 times.

I even love that even though Cush and I have spent a fortune on cat toys, Super Fluff really likes to play with pipe cleaners and twist ties the best.

I even love him when he decides that my breakfast is better then his and he eats it.

Thanks a lot Super Fluff. I had to take lots of pictures because it was just too cute. He ate bananas!

I made Fat Smash pancakes (1/2 cup dry oats, 1/2 cup skim yogurt, 3 egg whites, mix it all up, cook it like pancakes in a frying pan with a little cooking spray, top with bananas or strawberries) and he loved it!

All day yesterday, Super Fluff followed me everywhere I went. This was cute for awhile, but it's hard to sweep floors with a cat at your feet. I also had to put the duvet cover on the duvet of the spare bed.

Since I'm not English (I assume this is a British sort of thing) and grew up with comforters and quilts and blankets, this task is not an easy one for me.

I ended up having to get inside the duvet cover to sort it all out and Super Fluff thought we were playing (I should have known better) and he jumped on me while I was inside!

For such a large cat, he's super stealthy.

He stayed pretty much glued to me even after Cush came home from work. After awhile it starts to freak me out, because I know the inevitable bite to the back of my leg is coming.

I have to sort of walk backwards because he knows that if I see him coming at me I'll swat him away.

It's like he's got me held hostage and I hate that I'm afraid of him. My cat plays rough.

The worst thing is that he's so unpredictable. He bites and scratches even when he's being petted (not always) and purring away.

I also hate the way he jumps on the bed when it's being fully utilised by Cush and I...something not right about that.

But really he's a great cat.

He's giving himself a little cuddle! Awwwww!!!

Now about the GTI...

I made a trip out to The Sultan Center in Khoud for some groceries this morning just to change things up a bit.

The trip in was fine, I took the coastal road and listened to tunes and it was quite relaxed.

On the way back I took the motorway because of course, you can't get everything you need there. I had to go to Al Fair MQ.

Getting on the motorway, I was stuck behind a slow moving yellow shit truck and I was nearly crushed by a large truck whose lane was ending. He didn't seem bothered at all about the possibility of crushing me and kept his face very impassive as he looked at me in his side mirror. I either had to slam on my breaks and get driven into the back, let the truck crush me or drive on the stripey area in front of a white car.

Driving onto the stripey bit seemed my best option. The white car got pissed off and honked at me and threw his hands up.

I really wish he would have taken a more broad look at the whole situation before he honked and got mad at me.

There was nothing I could do and my actions did not cause an accident or even a near miss, there was loads of room.

I got over it by pretending I was Lady GaGa and sang along as best I could.

Things got troublesome again when I saw a dark grey Golf GTI in my rear view driving like a maniac, weaving in and out of traffic, and it was really heavy traffic all the way from Muscat City Center to MQ.

Now, don't get me wrong, I know how much fun it is a to drive around in a turbo charged VolksWagen. I do, I totally get it.

You get in and it's all airbags everywhere, comfy seats and the car is heavy and sturdy. You feel so safe in there like a dark grey and plaid cacoon. It's great!

You can feel how much power they have from the instant you touch the gas, and that's it. You fall in love.

The way they handle is just incredible.

I get it.

If you have about 10 thousand Rials and want and a fun, fast, sporty car, buy one. It's a better deal then you would get at BMW or Mercedes for the same.

But you know after driving the car for awhile, and you get used to it, you realize, you don't need to drive it like an asshole, just for fun anymore.

Besides, for me, it's more fun to drive all sedate and relaxed, just because you know, your car is better, faster, and more fun then most of the other cars out there.

It's a confidence thing. I have the confidence in my car to know it can kick the shit out of most other cars and I don't have to drive it like a jerk to prove it. Except that time the Pajero wanted to race me... but it was 3am and there were no other cars on the road.

I could if I wanted to, but why would I bother? I want to keep it in one piece and enjoy driving it for a long time.

Anyway, this GTI was all around me in and out of the fast, middle and slow lanes all across the highway, driving like an angry hornet.

Thankfully he got off just past LuLu and I didn't have to deal with his shit anymore. I really hate bad, agressive drivers.

The worst bit was that he had emblazoned in yellow on the back of his car *the Champion* what a tosser!

With all his aggressive driving, all the way from the just before the airport to LuLu he didn't get there any faster then I did.

So what does that tell you?

Ramadan prep for non Muslims

2009-07-27T11:09:00.004+04:00

Well, it's less then 1 month away from the start of the beloved holiday of Ramadan! This will be my third Ramadan in Oman.

I, incidentially don't love Ramadan, but I'm a non Muslim ruled by her tummy and it's rumbles. I'm a hungry girl.

My last years Ramadan survival guide for non Muslims post was one of my most popular -ever. Seriously, more popular then anything I've written about getting a massage in Muscat and that's saying a lot. Click here to read it.

There's a lot of us non-Muslims living in the GCC and other Muslim countries and maybe it's ignorance that we don't really know what to expect, but maybe we just don't want to get into trouble and thrown into jail or fined over a cigarette or a stick of gum.

I will still never understand why non Muslims living in Muslim countries are forced to go through the charade of pretending not to eat, drink, smoke, or chew gum during day light hours. It's not disrespect we just don't share the same beliefs.

It's not about -I'm going to eat my sandwich in front of you out of spite, we just want to eat a damn sandwich when we're hungry! The whole things gets to me, to be honest.

So in preperation for Ramadan, here are my recommendations-

-Max out your liquor license this month (you only have a few days left!) and next month do the same, but before August 21st which I think is when Ramadan starts, though you never know, the moon might not be in the correct place.

-Stock up on any baking supplies you might need in advance, flour, vanilla and almond extract, chocolate chips, coconut, baking soda, and baking powder. Last year I wanted to make almond bar things and there was no almond extract to be found at LuLu, The Sultan Center or Al Fair. I gave up searching after that.

-Prepare for the bars and restaurants to be closed during the day, and no alcohol being sold in the evenings. Your social life, if it revolves around going out for drinks in bars, will be over for the whole duration of Ramadan. I guess if you got desperate for a night out, you could make the run to Dubai, the bars are still open there in the evenings.

-Prepare for not being able to smoke in your car on your way to work or the grocery store. No gum chewing either. I wonder if finger nail biting is frowned upon during Ramadan too... I bite my nails sometimes...

-Always eat something before you leave your house. Especially if you're prone to getting hungry like me, just something to stave off hunger for a few hours in case you get caught up behind someone's car accident and the traffic is moving at a snails pace to a) check it out and b) try and drive around it.

Last year, Cush and I went to Canada during Ramadan and for my birthday, which has fallen during Ramadan the last 2 years, and will this year as well.

While I was running around on the day we left picking up gifts and stuff for my family back home, I was suddenly struck by the horrible tummy rumbles. I tried to ignore it because I didn't want to get caught eating.

But I was starving! It felt like my stomach was eating itself from the inside.

I had a Nutrigrain bar in my purse. Since I had been at The Sultan Center that day, I was in Qurm and had a quick think about where I could go and eat my cereal bar and not offend anyone.

I then remembered that there is a cemetery on PDO camp which I happened to find months earlier when I was just out driving, I went there and ate my cereal bar and offended no one, and was able to make my way home.

Sometimes I think I'm hypoglycemic, because if I don't eat I start feeling really shitty and weak.

-Prepare for the driving nightmare. It's truly terrible driving in Oman at the best of times, but it gets fucking scary during Ramadan. Don't go out if you don't have to. Maybe buy a big freezer and fill it with steaks, chicken, pasta, cereal and rice (if I don't keep my dry storage items in the freezer, I get bugs eating it, thanks to L_Oman for that awesome tip!!) and then you only have to go out for milk, eggs, fruit and veggies. I know it sounds paranoid and obviously not everyone can afford to do that, but it's terrifying. There's people on the roads hungry, thristy and some don't take their medication properly.

-If you work prepare for the total and utter lack of actual work going on. If you're non Muslim and work with Muslims be prepared for them to come to work late, then go home to sleep through their ravenousness in the day, maybe come back to work in the late afternoon before leaving again to go have Iftar. That's not every case, but it happens a lot. The PRO at my last job showed his face for about an hour each day last Ramadan, and he would openly say as he left, *well, I'm going home to sleep now, see you later* all I could think was, fuck you, going home to sleep...why can't I go home to sleep? But really I smiled and said, ok see you!

I would also suggest planning a house party. If you live in an apartment building maybe don't keep it going all night, afterall your neighbours might be getting up very early for breakfast and need their sleep. Then again Iftar parties sometimes go late, just be considerate about music volume.

I guess that's it. I just think that if you're prepared, thoroughly, you'll have a better chance of making it work for you. Seriously check out my last year's post, it was a lot better then this one but I will probably end up re-posting it closer to Ramadan anyway.

Where do all the vibrators go?

2009-07-21T17:39:00.003+04:00

While I was going to college I worked in an adult store.

It was the perfect part time job for a college student since the shop was open until midnight on the weekends and I could make some money while going to school during the day.

The shop sold everything from vibrators to magic lotions and lubes, penis shaped lollipops and boobie cake pans, as well as standard issue dominatrix get ups, whips and ball gags.

After college I quit that job so that I could work full time in a professional capacity and make a lot more money. Obviously, I left it out of my resume.

After moving to Oman, I met a woman who had a funny story about having her vibrator taken out of luggage as she entered the country. The ROP guard who found it actually brandished it like a sword and held it high and asked what it was and what she was doing with it.

Another woman I met had a vibrator confiscated out of a mail package at the post office.

I can't help but wonder where all the vibrators go...

It's something that plays on my mind a lot. I'm like, obsessed with it...

My theories include a storage shed located on the airport property, airport and postal employees bringing them home to play with or they are simply incinerated in some incinerator somewhere...

Now, for the life me, I can't understand what the problem is, except that I do know what the problem is. I just don't really get the logic.

Women's pleasure is something that should only be given to a woman by a man.

They have the same theories in Geogia and Alabama in the USA if I'm not mistaken.

So, I understand the theory, the logic seems somewhat skewed.

Some men and indeed women, do not know how to give a woman an orgasm, or they lack the patience to try. Not all, some.

Some women need some real power to have an orgasm, since most women can't have an orgasm just from straight up sex. Most, not all.

So, I'm not sure where I'll start, but I'm going on a mission to find everyday objects that have some vibe power that can be purchased at your everyday store.

One suggestion is an electric toothbrush (put some lube on it, not toothpaste!), but I think I can find something better then that.

So does anyone have any idea/theory where the vibrators go?

Anniversary week

2009-07-20T19:59:00.006+04:00

Well since all the drama this week, I missed my 1 year blogging anniversary.

It's funny how time passes, in an odd way, in an odd place. I mean odd for me, living here so far away from "home".

When I started writing my blog, I had just quit smoking and everything was like life or death. I needed a way to vent my frustration. Working with #3 was especially hard during that time. Finding urine dotted all over the toilet to me really was like the end of the world, but really, I'm a lady and I pee like one, and I drink a lot of water... ugh thank goodness I'm not working there anymore. The amounts of uncomfortable conversation was vast in that place...

And now here I am a year later, unemployed and smoking again.

It's been a crazy year of ups and downs and I'm happy that I've documented most of them here in my blog.

I look back at my first few posts and wonder how I had the guts to write what I did.

I feel like I've become boring and mundane, less interesting, less funny and I can't believe people still check in to read.

Thank you for those who do.

Truthfully, I'm bored with myself and I have a sneaky suspicion that I'm not as smart as I used to be. I can't shake it. I feel so dumb all the time. I say dumb stuff all the time.

Also this week, Cush and I are celebrating our second wedding anniversary.

2 years ago tonight, I laid sleeplessly all night on the futon in my parents basement while my "best friend" and her then fiance slept in my old bedroom. He had back problems and so it made sense for them to take the bed.

Cush slept next door at the neighbours house.

In the morning when the sun came up, I woke up my "BFF" and we got going. It was a sunny, bright day with a perfectly blue sky. Perfect for an outdoor wedding on the lake.

Since we had a huge amount of family staying with us, my dads car was parked over at the neighbours, and my dad had given me the spare key which did not come with a key fob. I ended up setting the car alarm off right outside the bedroom window of the neighbours at 6:30 am on a Saturday.

Our first stop was Tim Hortons for coffee and bagels. In the parking lot I found a teenage boy wearing this t-shirt:

I asked if I could take my picture with him since it was my wedding day and thought it was wierd to see that on such a special day.

I did have a fleeting moment of *is this a sign?!?* but laughed at myself.

BFF and I got our coffee (tea for me) and bagels and went off to the hall to finish decorating the venue before hair and makeup.

At the time, BFF and I had thought we might go into business being wedding decorators and planners and this was our second one.

The first one went off really well, so surely my own would be a piece of cake right?

Not so much. I am the single most picky person I know.

Luckily my Aunt is a wedding planner in Texas and took over when BFF and I had to go off for our hair and make up. My aunt was so intuitive.

My mother in law decided to help, which involed her making a call to BFF's mobile phone during our hair appointment and telling BFF she wasn't being very helpful when she couldn't answer a specific question about the center pieces, BFF hanging up the phone a having a small hissy fit in the salon.

BFF and I then decided it would be a good idea to get pizza and Red Bull because I didn't want to be one of those brides who passes out at the feet of the groom from lack of food. Very sensible we were, the 2 of us.

Also to be sensible I took many smoke breaks. I also didn't want to be the nasty nicotene deprived bride. After my veil was in place I had some old ladies stop and point at me and say to each other *oh look a bride!* and then their gaze shifted to the cigarette in my hand and they walked away holding each others arms.

After all was said and done and roughly $300 later, BFF and I headed home to get dressed.

Her dress was a steal. I really did want her to be able to wear it again so we went to Fairweather for a Little Black Dress (LBD). It was on sale for $60 CAD (20 OR) and we each paid half.

Little did I know that BFF had painted her toenails orange and she was wearing open toed shoes. I hate orange! It's the colour of cheap!

My dress on the other hand was a a bit tricky.

I was working a part time job in addition to my full time job at a charity bridal shop. To be honest, I wanted to take full advantage of my position, being that if I found a dress that I wanted, I could have it.

I did find my dream dress there, only it was too small and needed a lot of bread work done. I thought of everything I could to make the dress bigger, which really was only adding a corset back and even then it still wouldn't have worked because it still would have been too small across my decent sized boobs.

I went dress shopping with my mom who had agreed to pay for the dress.

Now don't get me wrong, my parents do well for themselves but I just couldn't bring myself to ask my mom to pay $2,000 for a dress for one day, no matter how much I wanted it. Even though she said it was fine.

I scoured sale racks but found them to be full of dresses that were the height of fashion, the best of the best, of the 80's and 90's... and they still were charging between $600 and $800.

As luck would have it, being the frugal girl I am, I looked at bridesmaid dresses and settled on a white skirt and white with black lace overlay top.

It wasn't my dream dress but it only cost $300. I had no guilt asking my mom for it and it looked nice. It was sort of perfect for a girl of 25 who had been shacked up with her man since she was 19 if you know what I mean.

I showed up to our wedding venue a little nervous but happy and was shocked to see all our guests milling around outside.

I couldn't help myself and exclaimed in a bridezilla voice *what the fuck are they all doing still standing there? they're supposed to be sitting waiting for me!*

I was pissed.

BFF went to investigate and she came back to the car looking nervous but smiling.

She said there was a small glitch but everyone was going to take their seat and I should just wait in the car a few minutes.

Somehow it dawned on me that there was someone missing from the ceremony. Someone very important, someone extremely integral to the whole wedding process.

Of course it wasn't Cush! It was the officient! The lady that was supposed to be marrying Cush and I had forgot something at her house. The marriage license and documents that had to be signed to make everything nice and legal.

How the fuck could she? Apparently she showed up, spoke to Cush for a few minutes and then it dawned on her. She lived 20 minutes away from our venue.

I smoked some more outside the car and then chewed some gum while we waited.

That was so not what I had envisioned.

Finally she came back and somehow avoided my wrath and made her way to the little archway we had set up just in front of the lake so all our guests had a fabulous view. The air was so clear we could even see Toronto in the distance.

My walk down the aisle was a wierd. My dad had to keep pulling my arm otherwise I'm sure I would have run to Cush's side tripping over my high heels as I went.

It was strange to see new friends and old friends sitting next to my reletives and my new UK family members sitting there.

Cush and I had made the conscience decision to make the ceremony as short as possible. There were no readings from the Bible, no mention of God, no sentimental quotes from other people, no readings, no singing, it was literally 5 minutes long.

The officient actually did us the honour of making the ceremony shorter by leaving out the part where I put Cush's ring on his finger. I ended up shoving it in place as she pronounced us married.

Cush's mum cried through the whole thing and let out a huge loud snuffle that I will never forget as long as I live. BFF also cried, but silently. Me, I smiled a huge goofy grin through the whole thing, a huge goofy grin only matched by Cush's.

After that it was a blur of drinking, taking pictures and talking to reletives.

When we walked into the dining room, I was in for another let down.

We left the caterer in charge of setting the tables with their own supplies and they had used wooden bowls for the salads.

We had row upon row of classic white chair covers and table clothes, white dinner plates and side plate, neatly set silverware and the glass bowls filled with crystals, black rocks, water and floating candles that I made up myself, and then dirty looking (though I'm sure they were clean) wooden salad bowls.

I was pissed.

But I let it go.

We all settled in and got started with food and a then Cush made a speech.

Being the honest girl I am, I forget a lot of what he said, but this will always stick with me.

He quoted some guy who said, "you know you haven't found true love when you can live with someone, you know you've found it when you can't live without them". My eyes started to tear but there was no way I was going to ruin my fancy expensive makeup so I blinked them away and smiled instead.

It was a beautiful day followed by a beautiful evening and we danced under the stars...

So things I would do over if I could-

-buy the dream dress, seriously I have dress regret big time
-hire people to style and plan your wedding, seriously worth it
-preview the caterers dinnerware, I can't believe the wooden plates still
-spend lots of money, even my parents regret not spending more, you only have 1 wedding (hopefully) may as well make it as fabulous as possible
-walk slowly down the aisle no matter how much you want to run! Savour that walk.
-call the officient before the wedding to make sure she has everything
-make sure your maid of honours toe nails are not a colour that you hate (seriously)

I guess that's it.

So Cush, I love you, happy 2nd anniversary, I know neither of us have had time to get cards or gifts, what with your having to have surgery this week, but that's cool, the card will only end up in a shoe box anyway. I'm looking forward to popping the cork on the Veuve Clicquot when you're all better!

Life in the ER

2009-07-17T12:30:00.005+04:00

Last Monday, we had the dinner party and it went well. My food was great, our guests were great, Cush and the guys even got some games in on our much neglected pool table.

I didn't manage to take pics of the food but I got 2 of the table setting. Someone brought me flowers and so they were on the table.

The plates are mismatched because we bought a set of 4 and then had company over and I needed another set and they didn't have the same ones so we bought different ones.

On Tuesday morning I got a call from Cush sounding panicked and distressed, and that he had sat through a 2 hour long meeting in absolute agony. His stomach was in knots and he wanted me to come get him.

I grabbed the left over Scopinol pills that I had from last years milk incident and went off to get him.

He downed the pills as soon as I saw him but then wanted to take his car home. I knew this was going to be bad so I stopped off at Al Fair to get some white bread, soup and a jug of water.

I came home to find him in bed resting but looking tortured. I got enough out of him to know that no one else we had over to the dinner party had gotten sick and I was so relieved that I hadn't poisoned 5 people.

Cush thinks it was the Subway meatball sandwich he had for lunch Monday afternoon.

Things got much worse as the day went on and so we went to the emergency room to find out what the deal was.

Yadda yadda yadda Cush had to have surgery. They wanted to keep in him over night but Cush just wanted to go home, and so we did.

We went back the next day for more tests and they concluded the same thing and so we scheduled the surgery appointment.

I have to say the surgeon seemed really talented and really likable.

He said that for a little while afterwards Cush would have to watch his diet, "so none of those greasy, lovey, delicious", and he started licking his lips at this point, "sausages!"

The man loves sausages, and so does Cush but we don't really eat them out here anyway. It was such a silly thing to say.

The point is that Cush cannot have fatty foods for the next 3 weeks. Meatball subs from Subway included!

So we went home again the night before and tried to rest. We ordered pizza because well...it seemed like a good idea. I wasn't feeling like cooking and it was easy.

The day of the surgery went well despite a slight reaction when Cush was given the first set of meds as pre-prep. I won't go into detail but he then needed to be given a seditive, and then he was alright.

The surgery went fine and Cush was in fine spirits when he came out.

My poor baby was thirsty and not allowed to have anything for 2 hours. I hung around to help Cush settle back in and relax.

We both had quite a shock when I went to help him put on a pair of boxers...they had definitly taken liberties with the razor when they shaved his tummy and chest. We still can't figure out why they went so low....

I was talked in to going to a farewell dinner of one of Cush's co-workers who is leaving this week.

I wanted to go and at the same time I wanted to be with my man. My mom (who called my mobile to check in on us), Cush and the co-worker who is leaving all talked me into going.

So off I went to Pavo Real for dinner. It was actually nice to have a sit down meal and a chit chat with some nice people. Everyone asked about Cush.

After dinner I went back to the hospital to make sure that Cush had been given water and juice and that his dinner would be delivered at 10pm.

10pm came and went and there was no food for Cush who was ravenous by that point.

I went out to have a word with the nurses. They said they would take care of it. I went back to the room and told Cush it was coming. 10 minutes later we got a phone call from the man who works in the kitchen. He recited the evenings menu to me.

-cream of mushroom soup (14 grams of fat per cup!!)

-shish tawook

-breaded shrimp

-etc.

Everything was fatty, except the bread and fruit salad on the dessert menu.

I told the man from the kitchen that I needed to talk to the nurses as we had been scecifically told that Cush could not have high amounts of fat.

The man came up so we could all have a pow wow together, Cush even came out of his room to join in the conversation.

We were both more then a little pissed off at this point.

The nurse called the Nutritionist who did not answer his/her phone.

I said, if fat content was not an issue, I'd have picked up McDonalds on my way, at least then he would have had something to eat.

I asked if we could just have some clear soup with toast and the fruit salad from the dessert menu.

Un-fucking-believable that someone like me, who has made a sort of sport of dieting has to tell nurses who should be familiar with these issues that Cush cannot eat the foods they want to serve.

The man from the kitchen still managed to put 2 packets of butter on Cush's plate. Yeah...butter... someone should tell this guy that butter IS fat.

Cush had very routine surgery, they should have a standard set of foods that have little to no fat. I'm quite shocked that this stumped all of them.

Other then that they were all lovely and very professional and attentive.. That's my only complaint.

Thankfully insurance covered the whole thing. We looked at the bill this morning and the total was just under 2,000 OR ($6,000 CAD).

Cush will be off work on rest the rest of this week, and I get to play nurse.

And now, it really is time for a sponge bath!

Facebook complications

2009-07-14T12:40:00.002+04:00

Sometimes I think Facebook is one of the most evil things ever invented.

Think about it.

If you just send someone an email, you can just pretend they didn't get it, or they haven't checked their email, but with Facebook, you email someone and then they don't respond but you can see that they've added pictures or taken quizes since you sent the email.

You can tell that you are purposely being ignored.

I'm having best friend (??) issues again. And also a man is sending me love notes. 3 since yesterday morning.

I went to bed last week and as I was dozing off Cush came in to tell me that my best friend (??) is getting married.

I was quite surprised and then Cush explained that she was still not planning to marry the man she was engaged to last October, her then boyfriend of 3 years, who she broke up with because she couldn't handle monogamy.

I was hurt that she had told Cush her plans to get married and hadn't told me. Afterall we're supposed to be BFF's or something like that.

For a slightly more interesting read, check out my last encounter with her from last September here.

So, to *be the better person* I sent her an email to congratulate her and wish her happiness.

She sent me back an email saying she decided to wait a bit. Apparently this guy is in Canada on a student visa and she wants to help him gain citizenship.

Well, hell, I've been there. But I like to think Cush and I did it the smart way.

If you marry someone who is not Canadian, they cannot just be married and start working right away. They have to wait about 2 years before they gain actually Canadian citizenship and in those 2 years you cannot commit crimes which include working without a visa (and getting caught, of course).

Cush was very lucky in that his university education was a sort of golden ticket to the world. They don't teach what he does in Canada and so he was able to get his employers to pay for immigration lawyers and visas and they even did all the paperwork for him.

It took him 5 years in total to get his landed Canadian status. Which means that he can now do whatever job he wants in Canada without having to worry about visas and losing his job because he can now work in a pub if he wanted. Which is great!

So I emailed her back and told her that I was happy she decided to wait and suggested that he try and get an employer to pay for his visa.

I'm not sure what my BFF (??) is going to university for but the last time I checked she was doing Philosophy. Now I may be wrong but I can't see that being lucritive and enough to support 2 people.

I always figured you can say what you want about love, but everything is just so less romantic when you're sitting in a dark room trying to read an eviction notice by candle light because you couldn't pay your power bill either.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I know money issues cause a lot of relationship problems.

So the next day I signed into Facebook hoping to hear back from my BFF (?) and saw that there were 3 emails in my FB inbox.

I thought wow! 3! I'm popular today!

As it so happens they were not from my BFF (?) but from some random dude telling me how pretty I am and how love is great and friendship and hearts blah blah blah....

I clicked on the next one and it was the same guy again telling me again that I'm so attractive and can we be friends?

The final one, from the same guy, was him saying he was waiting to hear from me.

What a nutter!

In a funny twist, I know someone who knows his boss. We'll see how this plays out.

If someone sends you a friend request, you can see some of their profile information, and I could see his employer. Hehehehehe.

So back to Facebook, I know my BFF (?) has been online and on Facebook.

What's that about? She can take the time to post some pictures but not a few minutes to email me back?

I'm so fucking sick of this. Honestly.

I know I said I was over all this but it's just so stupid.

This girl drives me nuts.

She worked so hard to try and get us to be friends again when I was in Canada, calling every single day, and I just didn't want to talk to her.

Now that I'm over it, and making a real effort, she is shutting me out of her life.

I don't know who this guy is, I don't even know his name, I don't even know how she met him, she just hasn't kept me in her life like you would expect a best friend to do.

Maybe she considers it none of my business anymore.

Well... fuck that. I really don't need the drama.

I don't need the games. I hate games.

Food, glorious food!

2009-07-12T10:32:00.006+04:00

Cush and I are hosting another dinner party this week for the men who don't or can't cook in his office.

This time we're branching out a little and inviting a man who works for another company that Cush knows through work.

I've met him at the pub a few times and he seems rather nice.

I always look forward to showing off my meager cooking talents, well actually, I'm not bad.

Having said that I always follow recipes, I'm not good at just throwing stuff together. I don't know what tastes good with what and I'm always hesitant to *go off on one* and throw in random things.

There are foods that I can make from scratch without recipes, chicken noodle soup, chili (veggie or meat), lasagne, spag bol and pancakes.

When Cush and I first moved in together, I didn't know how to cook anything really. We bought lots of frozen things like Chicken Kiev, fries and pizza, but I was only 19 and had never lived away from home.

Once, I dug my fork into a chicken kiev and scalding hot butter (or whatever it was) squirted up and burned my face and chest. At least it didn't leave a mark but it was really scary!

Everything changed when I joined Weight Watchers. They have put out a lot of cookbooks and I had a bit of a Weight Watchers cookbook buying addiction.

I then signed up for their newsletters which were emailed to me and I began printing out every recipe I thought I would make.

I now have an extensive recipe book tailor made to my exact tastes and everything is delicious and always turns out perfectly.

This works out for Cush as well because he doesn't mind what I make, he's just happy that I cook and that I enjoy it.

Usually when we have company over I splash out a bit and make things that I don't normally eat.

The last time it was Vodka Penne and it was super delicious. I substituted bacon for panchetta, but I think turkey bacon would work well too.

This time I'm making Chicken Cordon Bleu with White Wine Sauce. Instead of ham, I plan to use bacon, because bacon is just so yummy.

As a starter this week, I'm making Sweet Patato Bisque, last time it was Chicken Caesar Salad.

I plan to serve the Chicken with mashed potato and again, I'm making Apple Crisp for dessert, because everyone loves Apple Crisp. And clotted cream ice cream.

The problem I'm having is what to have as a side. I found an interesting recipe involving carrots, dill, butter and brown sugar.

It sounds strange but it has received very good reviews so I may as well give it a try. Right?

So I'm eating extra well this week in a futile attempt to cut calories in preparation for this butter infused meal.

Why is butter the secret ingedient to making everything taste so wonderful?

I actually know the answer!

It's because the fat in butter distributes the flavour in your mouth better.

I'm really looking forward to winter because the Middle East is like opposite world to Canada (and I assume the States and Europe).

Hear me out-

In Canada we make lovely homey heart warming dishes in the winter because it's too cold to go out and BBQ, plus in Ontario where I'm from, your BBQ would most likely be under 2 feet of snow.

In Oman I make lovely homey heart warming dishes in the summer because it's too bloody hot out to stand beside the BBQ for any length of time.

Apply the same to most sports and camping.

Afterall, who wants to sit around a camp fire toasting marshmallows while sweating profusely?

Not me.

So bring on the winter! Beer can chicken awaits :) I like cooking with booze. It somehow makes things seem more impressive. Like, I'm a badass cook for using wine, vodka and beer in my food.

The alcohol actually evaporates when heated, which just leaves behind these amazing and interesting flavours.

So I now have to get back to cleaning the flat.

These dinner parties have forced me to clean up a bit in here because, really, I don't want to eat in dirty places and I assume most people don't either.

I don't know how it gets so filthy in here, but it always makes me proud when there's more cat fur on Superfluff then there is on the floors.

Doctor visit, turkeys, doomsday

2009-07-08T10:38:00.002+04:00

I went to the doctor earlier this week to get checked out for the whole fainting thing.

What really lead me to go was the slight pain in the left area of my chest, well it was more of a tightness really.

I answered the nurses questions and she checked my blood pressure and whatnot.

I then saw the doctor, who was not the doctor I usually see and I'm not sure why but he didn't really seem to understand what I was saying.

Also he asked me questions that I couldn't answer.

Dr. - How long were you out for?

Me - I don't know, I wasn't conscience.

Dr. - Did you experience any seizure like motions?

Me - I don't know, I wasn't conscience, but I think my friend would have mentioned it.

It felt like a waste of time.

He asked me more questions and he asked each one twice and after I answered it the first time.

I found it hilarious that he didn't ask if I was pregnant, just because I had a few comments suggesting that I might be. Which I'm not.

So the nurse was then instructed to do an ECG (EKG?) on me to see how my heart was doing.

It turns out (according to the nurse) that I have Bundle Branch Block which means my heart nerve electro thinger is blocked and so the blood takes a different nerve electro thinger each time. I looked it up on Google when I got home.

I asked if that would have caused me to faint, and the nurse said no. The website I highlighted above says yes though, so I'm confused.

Here's what the webby says-Usually a person with bundle branch block shows no symptoms, but this block shows up on the EKG as an abnormality. If you have bundle branch block, it may have only been noticed when you had an EKG. You may feel fine, although some people may either faint (syncope) or feel as if they're going to faint (presyncope).

Should I believe the nurse or a website? And the doctor said nothing about it at all!

To add to my confusion, the doctor reviewed my ECG results and said nothing to me about the Bundle Branch Block, but then suggested that I go to a Cardiologist.

I haven't decided what I'm going to do. It's not a matter of cost, because we have what I consider an excellent health plan through Cush's work. Everything costs 5OR ($15 CAD) and prescriptions are all covered. Even when I had a bad 2 week long cold a few months ago, they gave me Panadol, for free!

I was about to give back the Panadol and say that I had some at home but that would be looking the gift horse in the mouth. I think that's the right expression. Why turn down free Panadol? It'll come in handy eventually.

So I told Cush about all that had happened. He thinks I should go to the Cardiologist because I have nothing better to do anyway, which made me laugh.

I just don't want to waste anyone's time.

Also I got my car back, which I think is fantastic. My car and I even had a slight Herbie moment. As I got in, I said, all right car let's go shopping! And off we went and I swear it drove itself to The Sultan Center.

After 2 weeks of not having full access to my car, I forgot how crazy it is on the roads here.

At the The Sultan Center they have frozen turkeys on for really cheap so I picked up 2 for about 4.5 OR ($14 CAD) each. I've got us sorted out for Thanksgiving and Christmas, which is great because turkeys are really expensive here during peak turkey times.

I've checked with Butterball, I actually sent them an email last year about frozen turkeys when I picked one up for cheap for Thanksgiving and they said that as long as the turkey stays frozen and in it's original package it's fine.

I plan to give it a good sniff when I've defrosted it in October (Americans celebrate Thanksgiving in November but essentially it's the same holiday).

Other then that, I've been watching a lot of tv, so shameful. The History Channel had this show on called Life After People and I really enjoyed it.

The show is based on the idea that human beings have just vanished from the planet. All other life and buildings have remained as we left them. Our pets in our houses, the electricity still going, our cars in the roads where we left them.

It goes on about cats and dogs and buildings and general decay, and I was really into it.

It gave me joy that plants and animals reclaimed the earth with such vigor. I feel like we've made such a mess of the planet. I mean really, we have, look at the state of us.

Also I caught a show about Doomsday.

Now these shows were really popular back in the late 90's when everyone thought that when the clock struck midnight on December 31 1999, the world was going to just blow up somehow.

The new date is apparently December 21 2012.

I have to admit, I do get a bit fascinated with the end of the world, and other peoples theories about it.

According to this show that I watched, the Mayan Calendar, the I Ching, Merlin and numerous other prophets and whatnot's predict the end on the same date.

I'm not sure I buy it, after all I went out and celebrated like it was 1999, on News Years Eve 1999, and I laughed when I got home at 4am and my dad had filled up the bathtub full of water "just in case" but I guess you never know.

The official website is here. If nothing else, it makes an interesting read.

Fainting in public, Sean Kingston, my car

2009-07-05T12:18:00.004+04:00

I'm still carless. It's been 2 weeks and honestly, the lack of freedom of movement is driving me crazy.

I had to take the 4x4 yesterday which involved obscene amounts of sweat and changing my shoes.

My car, for me, is my access to the world. I don't really know how else to explain it. I love my car, I love driving my car, I love that the AC works in my car and the seat slides backwards and forwards without having to grunt and dig my feet into the carpet and my ass into the seat.

I love that my car has a small sporty steering wheel and does not feel like a bus, all big and awkward. I love that it handles corners and curves at 60 KM/h with ease. I'm terrified of tipping the 4x4 over! Terrified! I slow down to 30 and make a big line of traffic behind me.

I'm sure I'll get the car back soon, it's not like they will keep it forever right?

Last week, I was asked by my good friend to go out for a girl's night at Left Bank, with some ladies who I had met before who are good friends with my good friend.

Cush offered to be my designated driver and off we went.

Things went pretty well, though I can't really bring much to the table in conversations about babies and children and the cost of boarding schools and whatnot. I added in to a conversation on transgendered women (men who have had sex changes to become women) and in my own way, I thought it was good conversation.

Things were going well...and then as I was standing away with my friend having a cigarette, things got kind of fuzzy in my head and my breathing didn't feel right.

I suddenly felt very cold and unsure of myself. I told my friend that I was going to the ladies and that I felt funny. She offered to come with me.

The next thing I knew I was laying on a couch with my friend sitting on a low table holding my hand and suggesting I turn over on my side.

I was sweating and and hot and cold but I was ok. My head felt clear and I was ok again.

No one really seemed to notice which I was so grateful for. I just hope that my collapse was graceful and not a mess of chubby girl falling down. So embaressing but I'm really glad my friend was there.

Also, last week Cush and I went to the Sean Kingston concert with M & A.

It was nice seeing M & A and honestly, that was the high part of the evening.

Doors opened at 7 so Cush and I showed up at 8:20 and Cush went to get us a couple of Diet Coke's.

Sean Kingston came on about 9:15 and by 9:45 the whole thing was over and we were back outside.

15 OR not worth it. Not worth it at all.

I thought the DJ was so annoying, he would play 2 minutes of a song and then cut it off with a sound that can only be described as explosions.

Also the bar was closed while the DJ (who precceded Sean Kingston) was on and so people we knew who brought their little girl had to go out and down to Costa Coffee to get juice for her.

That's so lame and not business minded. Drinks sales are important at events. I was thirsty damn it.

At the end someone came on to thank the sponsors. Cush said he thought it was Darren Short, I thought it could not have been him, because this guy was so unprofessional and forgot the name of one of the sponsors.

"Thanks to the icecream guy I forget his name" I believe was how it was said. If I was "the icecream guy" I'd be pissed.

This whole event reeked of half assed throw it together at the last minute don't bother to plan anything bullshit.

Back outside in the parking lot, there was a man talking really loudly about how much it sucked.

If I could sum up the suckiness it would be the length that Sean Kingston was on stage was not in line with the cost of the ticket, they played songs that Sean Kingston didn't perform, like Rihana, which was just filler, really.

So yeah, waste of time, waste of money.

Happy Canada Day

2009-07-01T10:34:00.006+04:00

Canada is now 142 years old. That's still really young for a country when you think about it.

But you know, contrary to popular belief, we do have running water and electricity "up there".

So I haven't written about Canada in a long time, because I think I went on and on about in one post and got so annoyed with myself, I just decided not to anymore.

But it's Canada Day afterall....so what would I be doing if I was home.

My "best friend" and her boyfriend (maybe she would still be engaged to her ex if Cush and I still lived at home) would probably make a massive trip to -

the butchershop

The BeerStore

The LCBO (Liquor Control Board of Ontario-essentially the liquor store) I love the use of the old building.

We would take all our purchases and head back to our place for a wicked BBQ.

Back to reality, the party that we planned to have for Canada Day never happened. 80% of the people we planned to have over have gone on leave/holiday and so I think we will have a party in the winter.

The weather will be better, more like Canadian summer so we will be able to have people inside and outside with the doors open and the grill going.

Also my mom sent me a huge package of Canadian themed stuff, including napkins and a wind chime (??) and it hasn't turned up yet. I'm hoping that by December it will be here.

Cush is being stalked.

2009-06-29T14:05:00.004+04:00

Well alright alright alright...

I've got some good news....

VW is going to fix my car at their expense, which is only fair since they're the ones who damaged it.

All it took was Cush writing a letter to VW Germany and asking for some higher up's email addresses from VW Oman to copy them in on the email.

Apparently they did not want Germany involved, because I'm sure their standards are very high and VW Oman's standards are seeminly very low.

Don't get me wrong, when you walk into the showroom, they are all too happy to sell you a car, the salesteam are very knowledgable and helpful but when you drive away all happy, it all goes to shit the next time you have to go back.

In other news, Cush is being cyber stalked by a girl he used to go to school with. She posts on his Facebook wall things that are not really appropriate to write on married man's wall.

It's not sexual but I get the idea she's infatuated with my husband. She signs each wall post *love, insertnamehere xxx*

It's a good thing that I'm a cool and confident wife because otherwise I'd probably be pissed off.

Of course I did, you know, ask Cush about it. I am a cool and confident wife but you know, if he's interested I'd rather know now then wake up to find a letter (Dear Angry, I've left you. Don't come looking for me. Your future ex-husband, Cush) and his luggage gone.

He explained to me that she's somewhat differently abled and immature in a lot of ways.

I guess you could say, the woman's crippled.

Even though I'm a cool and confident wife, this made me feel better.

Afterall, Cush needs a woman who is able to be the designated driver as well as wrap her legs around him. He needs someone who can run around cleaning up after him (he's messy) and can get the groceries and pick up his shirts from the cleaner.

Not that differently abled women can't do those things, but I'll bet I can do it faster!

So now that I'm extra sure that things are all good on my end...what the hell is going on on her end?

On Facebook, you can link up your spouse on your Profile in the Information section. We did that while we were on honeymoon, the proud young couple that we were, eager to share our love and happiness with the world...so it's not like she doesn't know.

Plus if you click on Cush's pictures, there's about 100 of him and I together. It's very obvious that we're together. It's not like she doesn't know he's married. Unless she doesn't care.

I get really angry when people don't respect the sanctity of my marriage.

So Cush has said that he's given her nothing to lead on her with, he was just being his usual sweet self, he contacted her to ask how her life was. He does that a lot with people he went to school with. Cush is a popular guy, people love (usually platonically) him but this girl has latched on and seems to treat it like a romance.

I've seen dogs run across parks just to be petted by him. I've seen horses do it too. Kids are oddly drawn to him in malls and shops. He's a good guy.

I have to tell him sometimes not to be so nice. I think this might be another one of those instances.

I'm not the type of girl who tells other women to back the hell of my man biatch! but if it carries on, I just might.

Probably not. Afterall, her life is apparently very sad and everyone deserves a little happiness, right?

Maybe she goes to sleep daydreaming little Cush fantasies and the babies she might have with him and how he will want to take her away to live with him in Oman, after he kicks out his evil wife of course (3's a crowd!) and the amazing adventures they will have....making love in the dessert, driving down wadi's, shopping in Dubai...oh wait, this is my life! Minus the evil wife because I am the evil wife.

Right, well maybe we should just let her dig the fantasy, afterall it's not like she could come after me, and if she did, I could probably take her.

Did I mention that I saw the movie Obsessed this week? That might be fueling my fire. Just a bit..

Goings on

2009-06-28T11:48:00.003+04:00

I still don't have my car back, things are in limbo still.

Things are progressing a bit though, Cush has spoken to some higher ups who as it turns out have been lied to about when Cush took the pictures of the car.

Right now, I just want my car back.

I have stuff to do, after all...important things.

Yes I have the Hardcore 4x4 but that means I have to wear proper shoes, which means I have to wear long trousers, because I will not wear shoes (trainers) with my standard issue capri's which have become my uniform here.

Plus the 4x4 is running hot and the AC doesn't really work very well and it's bloody hot outside!

So...I want my car back.

Cush has given me something to do to fill my time.

In talking to one of his co-workers it turns out that one of them (if not more) cannot, or does not, cook for himself.

So we're having some of the men over for dinner, and I'm the cook. A nice home cooked meal.

I've planned what I think is an excellent dinner.

Starter-chicken Cesar salad with homemade croutons
Main-vodka penne (delicious!)
Dessert-apple crisp with whipped cream

As a bonus, we get to use Cush's breadbasket, which I bought for him awhile back at Home Center. In the breadbasket, I will just put cut up baguette.

I must admit that it was a lame excuse to buy Cush a breadbasket, I just really wanted it. I bought it under the pretense that it was a gift. Terrible of me really.

So I've been busy dusting and cleaning and researching recipes online.

I found a recipe for vodka penne which I think will work better then the last one I used when we had friends over. It was not brilliant...I still feel not guilt but, I don't know, it wasn't fabulously done.

This time, I'm going Stepford. Maybe I should get an apron and some heels. No...that would be overkill.

I'm still debating which room I should hold our little dinner party in.

The room in which we usually keep the dining table has only one AC and is a very large room. Cush thinks it will be fine. We also have a bar and pool table in that room with a bar fridge just off that room in our storage room. Hmmmm thought...why don't we move the beer fridge (bar fridge) into the main room and store the extra beer under the bar? That might be an idea.

The room I want to move our dining table into is out main TV room which is much smaller and has 2 ACs, and is also closer to the kitchen which I think would make it easier to serve food, but really it would be no big deal to have it down the hall.

The dining table is easily movable, with help from Cush, so that's not an issue.

I think my problem is that I over think things. Dinner will be fine no matter what we do right?

I'm like an OCD perfectionist.

I'm off back to tidying, I'm sure everything will be great, if not, I'll be forgiven, I'm sure.