Boston Hello!

The eagle has landed. The fat man walks alone.

So I've left Dubai.

At least for the moment. Rather uneventful flight. Prolly 'cuz I slept through most of it. What is it about clouds that make them look like cotton candy? Here's a tip - don't watch Constantine and then pop off to sleep on a plane and wake up to lovely clouds and sunrises. Freaks you out it does. I swear I seen an angel. Horrible food they serve on flights. Although I'll bet it was better in business class. British Airways does do a good business class with the nifty personal sleeping area and the hot breakfast and the proper cups and not those sad plastic ones that dent if you squeeze them too hard thereby spilling your tomato juice all over your lap. Then when you get off the plane, they pop you in a bus and drive you around for about 10 minutes, towards the end of which you're left wondering if they're taking you to Gatwick instead of Terminal 3 (countless times I've transisted via Heathrow and it still baffles me) and then you have to get off the bus and walk up narrow stairs (and they never tell you how many flights) and then go around and around until you get through security and get into the departure lounge which looks suspiciously like the one you passed right when you got off the plane back at arrivals.

Remind me to dig up my OneWorld Gold card.

There's a very confused woman staring at the "It's a phone too!" sign by the internet kiosk. I'm surrounded by hotspottedness. Alas, in true British style, I have to pay for it. Which I will do so shortly to post this post. After which I will wander over to the Virgin Megastore and scope some tunes. I'm surrounded by shops and screaming children and, bless, there's a Starbucks. Hey, if I'm going to be a true preppie, I better start acting like one. One venti caramel macchiato with soy milk and extra foam coming up. There's a Boots with a GBP 5 (I don't have the pound sign on my laptop - it's a Dell - a product of true-bleu American capitalism, thank you very much) skincare voucher, a Harrods with some nifty purple purses, a World of Whiskies (where you can buy 2 and save 10 pounds) and a Glorious Britain where I think I will purchase a very red white and blue sombrero. Because, you know, there's nothing more gloriously British than a somebrero.

I miss the Googster. She would be fun to be in Heathrow with.

Stupid screaming children won't shut up.

Looking for a replacement

Someone to fill my petite sandals at work. And these are the resumes I get -

Hope my experience suits your requirements and i can associate with you

Looking forward to you for a better joint prospects

Keeping in view the required skills for the mentioned position, I think my self to be the most suitable candidate for the same and thus offer my services.

your job announcement is very attractive. The description of the tasks and requirements overlaps heavily with my former engagements, experiences and interests. Consequently, I have decided to apply for this position after thoroughly analyzing the announcement.

*banging head on desk*

"Don't mess with the head space, yo!"

So like Fujairah was so much fun that I totally forgot about you. I'll post pictures just as soon as I edit the videos. We got there (using Wolfie and her boss's nifty shortcut) in an hour and a half in boss's (the angry Irishman) Durango. Hoo mama, that car is sw-eet! Coldplay and Keane ruled the airwaves and Wolfie was one happy chick 'cuz she was finally returning to the desert.

Checked in to Sandy Bea-ch Hotel (which was such a dive), stripped down to skimpy nothings, lolled about on the beach, drank 2 beers (!), rolled over and promptly dived into the ocean. Swam upto Snoopy Island (I'll dig up a picture) and back, buried A.P. in the sand which was rather pointless since he insisted on breathing and shifting the sand on my efforts and leaped back into the sea again. Pretty much stayed there till dinner time which was A.P. madly fanning a dying BBQ with a snorkle flipper (too funny) and self hyperventilating about salmonella and other hideous diseases. Ate a par-grilled burger (rare meat anyone?) and jumped back into the ocean because didn't want to play complicated drinking card game with the rest (actually, I sat there for a good 5 minutes but couldn't understand most of it so I figured I was happily drunk enough). Did manage to beat A.P. at a ridiculously simple game of rummy (bless him) at which point he stormed off and popped off to bed, the party-pooper. A few hours of floating about on the waves being chewed by sea-lice, carried by Unnibeans, chased by Arv going "Hello, Mr. Andersen" every 5 minutes and off we went from the ocean to the pool. Which wasn't much fun but I did get some laps in. Another shower, more booze and a lot more lying about under the stars on the lovely beach and I was ready for bed. Would've slept under the stars if it wasn't for annoying chaps who just wouldn't stop talking. Stupid boys.

Woke up at the crack of dawn the next day and went for a long swim around Snoopy Island with a turtle who I affectionately named Moxy. The sea was relatively calm but I did get swept into some rocks and bruised one shoulder. Staggered into a ridiculously bad and over-priced breakfast and jumped back into the ocean. You starting to get the theme of this trip? Started to build a VERY sad sand-castle with Freelancer4 and A.P. and gave up. Started to light a fire in the BBQ with A.P. and gave up. No, not light the fire WITH A.P. although he would prolly burn better than kindling, rusky fellow.

Strolled into a very elaborate and a very lovely lunch buffet at the Meridian Resort next door and drove back to Dubai.

I am so horribly sunburnt that wearing clothes is a big problem. I am also very dark. Much like the ragamuffin I am. I was looking at my passport picture and reminiscing about the good ole' days of luminescent skin. Oh well. C'est la vie.

Rest of the week was spent madly handing over projects to the inimitable A.P. (Ally was right, maybe I should take him to Boston with me as my bitch *giggle*). Had a farwell dinner with the chaps at Nando's yesterday where they have these brilliant chilly sauces. Went out with the maddest of the lot last night for drinks. Started at the Agency and wound up at Harry Gatto's karaoke bar.

The madness and mayhem that ensued thereafter is too volatile to commit to words. Suffice to say that Filipino waitresses were felt up, Account Managers were set afire, self was swept off her feet (twice), clients were drunk, Art Directors were forcefully excellent dancers and the boss made rude gestures with a microphone. I did the tango with Arv and the salsa with Sully. The rest of it can't be described as dancing - it was jiggling with Unnibeans, hugging Rash and jumping up and down and at some point I think I was in a sandwich between Sully and Summer (which is a very *ahem* concept). There was also these two Arab chaps in dishdashas singing "Let me be your hero babee" albeit not to each other and one chap next to me kept thrusting a shot glass with something foul in it under my nose. Not to mention that everytime I went to the loo, I had a chaperone who was sometimes male. And Ant was doing some strange tai-chi exercises combined with a lot of air-guitaring.

Don't ask. If this was anywhere else but in Dubai, we would have so been kicked out of there.

We also sang abysmally bad songs. Badly. But a wonderful time was had by all. I sneaked out at 2 am because I got the Dad guilt trip which I now regret because apparently the party shifted to Summer's castle. By far THE most fun I've had.

Last day at work today. Prolly going to leave soon. Have loads to do.

"Liberalism has been singularly leery of defining its own theoretical principles"

Wolfe says:
aha
pekoe says:
o-ho
Wolfe says:
don't be cheeky

Off I go to Sandy Bee-atch Hotel in Fujairah with the office chaps and my box of tissues. Beware the sneeze, see on the flip side.

My face is like a minefield

Deluged with pimples. Is deluged the word I want? Well anyway, you know wot I mean. Beseiged. Overwhelmed. Much like the rest of me. Overwhelmed.

There is so much to do. There are projects to hand over, financing to be found, sites to be built, specifications to be written, clients to be met, homework to be done, housing to be arranged, bags to be packed, tickets to be bought, parents to be fed, printers to be fixed... the list just doesn't end.

I know why my face is like a minefield. It's punishment. For being a horrible person. The sort of person who yells at nice, sweet, well-meaning, efficient, understanding, capable (did I mention nice?) Account Managers. And Technical Leads. For making jokes. That they have every reason to make. And instead of laughing along, wot do I do? I snap at them. Loudly. So everyone can hear. And then they're embarassed.

And then Dad keeps getting mad at me. And I don't know wot I've done.

And it just doesn't end. The list of things to do. It won't end. I have no more energy left. I can't take care of all these people and myself. I'm too tired. I'm tired and I feel like a horrible person for being tired and incapable of taking care of my life. I've made my choices but I can't seem to muster up the energy to fulfill demands made by my choices.

When will it end? Is it supposed to end? Is this how it is?

Sometimes you just want to lie in bed and cry and cry.

Come away with me

Just got home. Not very tired but brain hurts. I wanted to tell you about singing unconscious duets but I don't think I'll be able to do it justice. I guess you should have been there.

Bumped into high-school friend who works in the Towers. Little Lisa. Looks exactly the same. Will wonders never cease.

Looking forward to the Fujairah trip this weekend with the office folks. Must remember to load up mp3 player with lots of tunes seeing as will be carpooling with someone else who may not want to listen to sad sweet songs.

Got home just in time to catch the last bit of Mr. and Mrs. Iyer. Love the way that movie ends. Brilliant. Now shall load more sad sweet songs on mp3 player and potter off to bed. Tomorrow's another day.

Come away with me...

dancing punjabi spinster wants hooker with champagne shoulders

A certain audacious 'gentle'man (he once made me smile when I cried) suggested that the above combination of words searched in Google will lead you to this blog. To which I respond - and wot were you doing googling for this in the first place?!

Does anyone even read this stuff?

The best product designs of 2005. That Rubbermaid Paint Buddy would have come in handy painting that damn dolphin on that chap's damn wall in freezing sub-zero weather. Don't worry if you don't know wot I'm talking about. This was probably before your time.

There's a new feature on this blog - Product Watch. Some awesome products and awesome product designs - I would so love to have these - would make trekking across the world for the 5th time a whole lot more fun. Will keep this as updated as possible.

"Neha Dhupia is so.. unnh!"

So I was talking to Artraj earlier today and we were talking shop and it occurred to me that this is the latest creative I've done.








And some of this was actually done before 2000 and isn't even original! This bites. I need to do something about it. The logo, for starters, could do with a change. And contrary to one drunken monkey's suggestion, I will not add a woman looking left and put a candle between them. I'm not gay (yet) so keep your lezbean fantasies to yourself.

Tata Consultancy has a 70.5% return on equity

No Need to Click Here - I'm just claiming my feed at Feedster feedster:cc6f17771e91d70111a3f58bc9c1ff83

P.S.: I love how utterly pointless this post is!!

There's more to say

About cowboys in Delhi and Campaign newsletter and Flip's unethical cheekiness and how much I want Dhaval Desai never to be able to work in this town again and Mangal Pandey and dishdashas in bars and the latest Jumeirah Jane encounter but I'm tired and I have homework to do and it's late and you've already taken up so much of my time and I promise I'll talk to you later but let me go now or I won't get any sleep and then I'll be awake and then I'll be lonely and then I'll think about how I used to starch his shirts and collapse into one big sniffling mess and that won't be a good thing.

Besides, one post a day ought to be enough for you.

The Nanavati Report - a brief history

There's a place in New Delhi called Tilak Vihar Colony. That's where the Sikh widows live.

The Sikhs wanted political autonomy in India. Indira Gandhi was assassinated in 1984 by Sikh extremists because of her controversial decision to send troops into the Golden Temple. She made this decision because Sant Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale and his followers had taken over the temple and stockpiled guns, rifles, antitank missiles, rocket launchers, hand grenades and mortars. The encounter ended in slaughter - 259 Sikhs and 59 soldiers were killed, an additional 90 Sikhs and 110 soldiers were wounded. Unofficial figures placed the dead at more than a thousand. There was a 24-hour curfew in Punjab. Sikh extremists surfaced all over India and the world - attacking Amritsar, Rajasthan, Bombay, New Delhi, Vancouver and other places. Security was stepped up in Indian missions in the US, Canada, Britain, West Germany, The Netherlands and Denmark, where there are significant Sikh populations. Then the Akali Dal Party announced that it would begin to block grain shipments to the rest of India from Punjab, thereby cutting of 65% of the nation's crucial grain reserves and causing widespread famine.

Three days before the attack, Indira Gandhi appealed to the Sikhs to end their agitation. She had agreed to giving them religious autonomy and to amend the constitution to distinguish Sikhs from Hindus but if she gave in to the demand for political autonomy, there would be a Hindu backlash.

So government troops stormed the Golden Temple. Many were killed. Sikh bodyguards assassinated the Prime Minster. Hindus retaliated by brutally murdering the Sikh. One favourite pastime of most Indian people is to drench others in oil and set them on fire. Put tires around their neck and set them on fire. Lock them in their houses and set them on fire.

So now they have the Nanavati Report. Which is an investigation into the anti-Sikh riots in Delhi in 1984. 21 years ago. It took the government 21 years to come up with an investigation report for the targeted murder of two thousand people in the nation's capital. The commission that produced this report is the 9th such commission to probe the 1984 riots and was set up in 1999.

21 years have passed. That's a lifetime some never had. Somebody must have turned that crowd into a mob. And they couldn't find them in 21 years?

So Union Minister Jagdish Tytler and Congress parliamentarian Sajjan Kumar are among those named in the GT Nanavati Commission report on the 1984 anti-Sikh riots for instigating mobs to avenge then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi's assassination by her Sikh bodyguards. However, the Government has let all Congress leaders off the hook. Because the commission report says there is a high probablity that Tytler and others had a hand in the riots and the Government says that it cannot prosecute on the basis of probablity alone.

The others named in the report were Lieutenant Governor PG Gavai, the then police commissioner SC Tandon and Congress MP Dharam Dass Shastri. Shastri died somewhere along the way these past 21 years. The Government will not take action on the others.

So, in conclusion, the commission's efforts came to nothing and the Government's action taken report was totally useless.

Waiting 21 years for justice. Is there a statute of limitations on pain?

Empty

Art's illustration on 'Empty' is so bloody good that it makes me feel.. empty. Void. Voided out. Achingly hollow. Heart-wrenchingly alone.

Good job, luv.

This post is sponsored by Black Cobra

Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
Mark Twain

Kuch na kaho

So like in a moment of madness I decided not to work today (the audience gasps collectively) and watch teevee instead. Now I don't know if you've had occasion to watch teevee on Sat nights but there are about 18 thousand hindi movies playing. And in mid-zap we catch a glimpse of A.B. jr. and so of course the parents raise a unanimous shout that this should be the movie we see. I find it very frightening that my mother knows inside stories about the Bachchan family. Like who's left-handed and who's not. And how tall (or short) everybody is. And who's married to whom. So anyway, mediocre movie. Too many songs. Too many soppy dialogues. But some quite fun bits. Appalling acting as usual. Lots of nice tissue-paper saris. Almost makes you want to go out to a nightclub wearing a red chiffon number. Almost. Next time the mater and the pater make me meet prospective grooms, I shall question them thoroughly on their views about incarnation. Should take care of it, I would think.

And now, here's the obligatory Abhishek Bachchan image.


In other news, it's M. Night Shyamalan's birthday. Don't ask me how I know this. Live long and prosper, you strange man you. And fer gawd's sake, don't stop making movies. It's the only reason why people read this blog. They stumble upon it while searching for films. Way to drive traffic eh?

It's stupidly hot today

And I've been trying to check work email all weekend but it refuses to cooperate with me so much so that like good ole' Atlas, I have decided to shrug. Also, remind me to book my tickets today.

Filed in a tender for another villa today and yelled at office chap for leaving things dusty. The tender filing was fun. The yelling was funner. I'm turning into the grouch who lives in the trash can on Sesame St. Also spent 20 minutes driving round and round City Hall today since couldn't find parking and so threw Pops out of the car to go file things and buy parking cards and other misc. bits of administration. Why is it that one can never find parking in Deira?

Lettuce begin with #244...

Missed Wired's NextFest in Chi-town this year. As I had the previous years. Will just have to wait for the mag feature. Which I hope Black Cobra is assiduously saving for me.

Have fallen asleep waiting for #244 to load so think mebbe will take a nap and try again later.

Just can't manage to get enough sleep these days.

Get your helmet dented

Bristol-Myers Squibb is taking its foot off the pedal when it comes to consumer drug ads. On June 13, it announced a new policy on advertising. The biggest surprise: Bristol says it will wait at least one year to start pitching newly launched drugs directly to consumers through TV, print, and radio.

About bloody time. Read more.

Tech Steps Up to Back Bono. The Irish rock star's mission to fight poverty in Africa is getting serious support from the likes of Sun, Cisco, AMD, and more.

Anime is Japan's next biggest export. Told you the geeks will inherit the earth.

Media geeks take heed. Information Architecture ain't only for the web.

Apparently there are publications in this town that inflate their circulation numbers. You know. To look good. And now apparently, since AME Info went and got themselves audited (met with them last week and they're bloody good businessmen) now everybody's shaking in their shoes. And you apparently have to make it clear that the media agencies need to find a non-bloody solution and start behaving mature. WHY THE HELL IS EVERYTHING SO WRONG IN THIS DAMN TOWN?! Nobody has any customer data, IT systems don't work, IT managers don't have a clue, upper management comes up with stupid-ass email policies, people go on vacation and work stops because nobody else can sign meaningless HR documents in their stead, production doesn't understand wot Mac compatibility means, VPs are forever on holiday, branding managers think client servicing is a waste of time, designers don't care wot the client wants, web developers can't speak CSS to save their lives, technical leads have to sit on carpets in lonely corners in the corridor outside the office to get work done, project managers constantly erupt in unprecedented shows of anger and frustration, people bypass resource bookings simply because they want to and nobody takes a fucking shower regardless of the fact that it's 45 fucking degrees out there and they smell to high heavens. It's enough to drive one under the desk.

Or quit.

And let me remind you that quitting is not about getting scared or not being able to handle things. Sometimes people quit because they recognize the signs of failure. Loyalty only goes so far. It's not about the bread and butter. It's not even about the perks or lack thereof. At the end of the day, it all boils down to the work. And if the work ain't good and not for lack of trying then it's time to move on.

Tirade over. Back to the news. There are 238 periodicals left.

Breathlessly awaiting WiMAX. I'm all agog with excitement. Big tings mate, big tings.

...if vendors are going to win widespread acceptance, they have to move away from adding wireless technology to products that have limited appeal. Most people won't pay hundreds of dollars for a refrigerator that can connected to the Internet, say analysts.

I would! I would! Can you imagine a world where the internet is everywhere? In your gadgets, on your appliances, in the air! Life would be one big ball of AI with holographic television screens popping up whenever you needed to know something. Oo! Oo! And a help icon! Life would have a help icon! You could F1 a virtual keyboard in your pocket or something in the middle of a tricky business meeting and your brainwaves would activate the inside of your glasses and you could surf the web and come up with intelligent defintions for things and none would be the wiser 'cuz your glasses would be the cool mirrored ones with optional hinge lenses. Life would be like.. would be like.. the Minority Report! Oo!

And with these wireless happy thoughts, I go to bed.

Fucking nonsense

Fucking printer won't fucking work and people keep asking me fucking stupid questions like if there's ink. OF COURSE THERE'S FUCKING INK IN THE FUCKING CARTRIDGE! Don't you fucking idiots think I would have fucking checked that?!

Fucking MSN Messenger has been fucking down all fucking week probably because of that fucking submarine cable and fucking Etisalat probably doesn't have a fucking clue.

"If you're going to have goals and dreams, they might as well be big."

It's dubbed the "Style Road Trip." In late May, some two dozen Afghani businesswomen arrived in New York to participate in an intensive three-week program designed to promote and develop entrepreneurship among Afghanistan's women. For most of them, the program, sponsored by the Business Council for Peace (Bpeace), was their first trip outside their war-torn nation.

Read more...

A 100 proven CRM ideas, Part 2. Good schtuff. Can't find Part 1. Now only if the Agency got wind of this.

Mall of the Emirates will have over 425 stores, 65 restaurants, a 14-screen cinema, and the Middle East’s first indoor ski resort, called Ski Dubai. A 384 suite Kempinski Hotel, with 16 chalets overlooking the ski slope is being built alongside the shopping centre. Its backers claim it will be one of the world’s largest retail and leisure complexes.

Saatchi & Saatchi has been appointed to work on the mall’s creative. Four ad agencies were short listed after an initial eight were invited to take part in the pitch.

“There is such a fantastic story for advertising to tell with Mall of the Emirates, and we are doing it in a simple, emotional and compelling way,” said Rob Mitchell, managing director at Saatchi & Saatchi in Dubai.

Fantastic story my ass. It's just another damn mall in a damn city where the damn inhabitants have too much money and not enough brains. Read the rest here...

German Rock finds it's own voice. Finally. More German music actually IN German. Yes, I know I don't speak German (drunken slurry claims of "mine liebchen! mine!" to certain long haired professors of illustration do not count).

Private equity pours into India. Big money to be made. Or is there? Is it just like Dubai? Waiting to collapse? Will it all come tumbling down? Prolly not. The markets are more stable. The people however are not.

Iraq war takes military spending over the trillion dollar mark. Gee, wonder where they're getting all this money from, Bob? Did you know we had WMDs? I didn't. And all these people living here for so damn long sure as hell didn't. The world has too many Bushes.

More later.

I forgot to mention...

... that someone from Bayonne found my blog by googling "doctor who did nose surgery to actress sridevi" which I think is bloody funny. And suspicious. Because Mr. and Mrs. live in Bayonne. Hmmmmm.. interesting.

It's not funny anymore

It's official. I resigned yesterday. AM took it rather well. He only threw a stapler and a post-it pad at me and banged his fists on the desk and cursed massively. I was a little afraid of being in a closed room with a tall and angry Irishman but I ducked when I saw the stapler coming and that was the end of that.

Actually not quite. He then proceeded to glare and make snide and funny comments all week. Lovely man. Lovely sense of humor.

A.P. took it very calmly. Although telling him myself was the one thing I had asked t. and a. Irishman to let me do but I got stabbed in the back on that one. Prolly deserved it too. C'est la vie as they say. Can't say they'll miss me much.

They did manage to drive me under the desk the other day. Yes, Nooches. Go ahead. Make your jokes. You know you want to.

It's all coming apart at the seams. Every morning I wake up and I feel a twinge of regret about leaving the Agency. Every evening when I stagger back home, I'm bloody glad I'm going. It's even more a mess than Spin was. Which is saying a lot. And I don't know about you, but I've paid my dues. I'm not about to spend another year of my life proof-reading a web developer's content population. Fer Gawd's sake people, how hard is it to check yer werk?!

So like, this has been a mad mad mad week. And the sleeplessness is beginning to show. Baq asked me if I had the pox and I had to explain to him that pimples were a normal part of a chick's life but he didn't quite get it. Hair has also decided to revolt and now pays no heed to product or persuasion. Also haven't seen parents in about 4 days. I really want to go to bed now but I'm afraid the minute I fall asleep I'll have hideous dreams of AM looming over me, growing taller and taller and A.P. turning into the Grinch with green knobbly hands and self exhibiting signs of shaken baby syndrome. Which, in case you were wondering, is wot I dreamt last night. Which is funny 'cuz AM is rather nice and A.P. really couldn't care less. Oh well.

Maybe it's all the fruit I'm eating. Oh yes, you heard me. I'm eating fruit. Almost everyday now. In fact, I haven't had meat at all today. An ENTIRE day without meat. Go figure.

There are so many things to say. I'm too tired. But I don't want to go to sleep. That would be like wasting time. I have homework to do. I should prepare those scholarship essays. I'm supposed to learn an OOP language. And I have to work on my resume. And file those DS forms. And clean the kitchen. And spend time with Dad. And do something nice for Mom. And not obsess about work. And ... and... and...

Tomorrow. It'll all make sense tomorrow. But I haven't slept in such a long long time. Let me go to bed now and I promise I'll make sense of it tomorrow.