Weekends are always the best.
Weekends are the time to stop thinking.

THURSDAY
A seemingly endless karaoke night… in the morning Yolanda handed me a 50-dirham bill. I left it out in the front yard when I was opening the door the night before. What?!

FRIDAY
We all went to Jumeirah Beach Park last Friday afternoon and had a snack.
Sherry and I went to my place to take a nap.
And a few hours later we were in the company of several US Navy officers at the Fairmont Hotel.
We would have painted the town red to the tune of In the Navy and YMCA, but it was Prophet Mohammed’s birthday, meaning it was officially a dry night for all the places in the UAE, except for Nad Al Sheba, because of the Dubai World Cup.
And so we had at least three kinds of coffee on our table and a nice conversation that was really small talk stretched until the bar asked for our last order.
I brought them home to our villa where cold Carlsbergs were waiting for them.
(I meant to tell Craig, still haven’t, but will.)
I waited until I was sure they were good guys and were not going to get rowdy upon consuming alcohol. Each of them only had one, two beers.
Good boys.

SATURDAY
Taebo. Hardcore taebo and then a nice fruit platter for late breakfast with Sherry.
And then we took a looong nap and watched a movie.
300 was good! Really nice. It moved me. To tears. To big fat tears. I was sobbing until I didn’t know if I was crying because Leonidas died and left his queen with only a choker that resembled the ones they make in Boracay, or because I missed Guillaume and was disgusted at myself for having the courage show pain only inside a movie house, where it’s dark and no individual is ever noticed.

To be very honest, I did so many things during the weekend just to tire myself, so that sleep was the only alternative to fun, and breaking down was not an option.