Who reads Page 3?

Have you noticed this about the Gulf News Tabloid - there are lots of pictures of people on pages 3-6. Everyday. At some random event. There are a lot of smiley faces. Of all types. And all the people are captioned by their first name. Shelly and Richard. Robert and Madhu. Tina, Sudha and Miriam. Abdul and Abbas. Tell me something. Who are these people? Why are they in the paper? Are they close personal friends of Gulf News? Additionally, and this is the important one, why do I have to see their shiny boothas in the paper? Can this real estate not be used for a better purpose? Like an expose on seals and their fishing habits or something. Maybe a picture of a lion eating a hyena. I mean, one is as random as the other so you might as well show us something remotely interesting. Who reads page 3?

I've been busy lately. About halfway through the stamps, Pops decides to clean out the picture collection that we have stuffed in the drawer in the absolute last corner-end of the house. The reason why we put them there to begin with was because we didn't want to deal with them but with Mum gone, Pops couldn't resist the urge to throw some junk out of the house. That and it was Friday and he was bored. Why, then, since he was the one bored, did he not do it himself and dump it on my desk is beyond me. But that is how it happened. And then we went looking for proper photo albums to put the blasted things in. Which was a bad idea at 1 pm on a Friday afternoon with nothing to eat since my food intake is being regulated because everybody and their uncle is concerned about the latest (albeit temporary) weight gain since good boys don't want to marry fat girls and one thing led to another and I promptly contracted some form of heat stroke combined with a tea bag effect with a dip in glucose levels and had to be brought back home and laid in bed with fans blowing and my toesies in ice water. At which point Pops says in his most plaintive voice, "Do you think I'm too controlling? Because I can always stop." This is after he yells at me for being weak, tells me how he's not weak even with a bad heart, assures me that I'm a worthless person and how he must suffer because of it.

The heat stroke business resulted in two days of migraines because of which I was rather useless to the general public so it was for the best that Mum was away because we all know wot's it like trying to relax around her.

Mum has returned. I'm done with the pictures and have put them away. She's cleaning. I'm trying to stay away from her. She follows me with the Hoover. It is not helping my headache. I have put the stamps away since they were not helping my headache either. Pops sneaked out the house and let me to my fate. Abandoned by my own. Tch. Life.

Now would be a good time to find some friends and get out.

Everyone is a refugee at the U.S. Consulate

So like, Dubai is nice. It's hot. Averages 32 C. Which is around 102 F for you non-conformists. Lots of fogging up of glasses and dust in the distance. Lovely.

All the air conditioners were serviced the other day. Which involved taking a water pressure thingy to the outside fan units to clean out all the dirty grimy dust. Which looked like a lot of fun. I wanted to do it too. But they didn't let me, those service people, party poopers. So I watched eagerly instead. To also ensure that they didn't make off with the family jewels, of course. Me Mum is convinced that everybody that steps into the house steals a knife or a bra or the screw top cover of the hot fluids cup you keep for your car.

Went to the U.S. Embassy yesterday to get my visa extended which they did rather nicely. I was the last one to be interviewed and was only asked 3 rather mundane questions which I was annoyed about because I'd been there for 3.5 hrs at that point and would have preferred a thorough grilling as to my immigatory intentions to make all the waiting worthwhile. I did take a book, yes, but it got tedious after a while. And no, nobody raised an eyebrow at me for reading a book on Khomeni at the U.S. Consulate so you can calm down, Black Cobra. I was nearly run over by a bunch of very excitable Arab women who seemed to be convinced that fighting their way to the front of the line would guarantee them a visa to the infidel country. I nearly smacked one of them which, funnily enough, elicited laughter from the Nepali security guards. Should've stamped their toes at least. Maybe next time.

Speaking of which, BC, you needs to tell me when you want me to come back stateside so I can book my tickets.

We spend our evenings at RK's house playing snooker. Well, they play snooker. I get snookered. Which means I mostly sit in a corner and giggle. Went to my favorite place, the Fruit and Vegetable Market yesterday and bought 3 boxes of mangoes and one of papayas and one of pomegranates and have been juicing ever since. It's quite entertaining.

Everybody is very excited about the Norwegian Fjord cruise they're going on next month. Pops, unfortunately, has started worrying about the packing. Mind you, there's 40 odd days to go but still. He wants to take Sh. Mo's picture, my degrees and certificates, two large floor standing speakers and lots of warm woolies. I told him that the fjords are not freezing in July but he won't listen. I've told him that you're going to do his packing this time, Black Cobra. Hah.

Tomorrow perhaps I go to the British Embassy to get my UK visa. While I'm at it, I might get a Schengen and one for Mexico and one for Canada as well. Just in case the bug bites me.

Spoke to Artraj yesterday which was fun. Curry is coming down next month but I miss her. The folks at BBDO need to be visited (or do they?). Mahima should be coming down sometime soon.


I've been working on the stamp collection. Making auction lots and cataloging and sorting and all that sort of stuff. It is rather engaging. I recommend it. Also, if you want to purchase some lovely collectible stamps from the Middle East, Asia and/or Europe, let me know. I just might have something you'd like. As you can see from the picture, I have the coveted set (not one, but two!) of 4 of the Jabal Ali Earth Station issued in 1975.

I shall go read Khomeni now. BC, don't forget, the 35th wedding anniversary approaches.