Proximity is king.
I was pining for my then new neighbor and monitoring his daily ETA, and every single time I took out the trash and walked past his flat, I got a high.
It was excitment at its best, with a rather cliche theme.
But one day his car wasn't in the parking lots anymore, and I stopped seeing him in the lift and bumping into him in the hallway.
My heart sank. Every day I felt queasy and uninspired, neglecting to take out the trash and fixing my hair.
But all things come to an end, and sulking over the disappearance of my hot neighbor was no exception.
I forgot all about him in a week. Completely.
So days passed by, and I read books and went out with new people and and cut my hair ridiculously short and went shopping and singing on weekends.
Everything transpired like a swift memory, like a moment in my life in passing.
The other night, while I was in the middle of my pre bedtime reading, my doorbell rang.
It was him.
HE was back from a trip.
A long one.
When I looked at him, I didn't feel the same tingling sensation I used to feel whenever our eyes met in the hallway.
There was simply nothing in his eyes, or in mine.
We said good night, and that was it.
When someone goes away, you lose them and it takes a massive amount of effort to bring back what you had with them.
And I don't have the energy to do that right now.
No effort. Just coasting along.
Proximity is king.

I expected more from my tomato alphabet soup. On the packet, it looked delectable and fun, with all those letters floating around. But when I cooked it, the letters sank to the bottom of the bowl and all I could see was orange liquid. When I was trying to scoop them with my spoon, they emerged broken. I couldn't recognize them. I couldn't see the Es, the Rs, I just saw a bunch of finely cut up noodles, and for a moment I wondered if the characters were in Arabic.

How random would that be?
Me, eating tomato soup in the middle of the desert.
Tomato soup with Arabic characters in it.

Finally! I had 8 hours of sleep last night! I feel fresh! Plus my hair's sticking out funny, which is exactly how I like it. I had my first shoot at 930 AM, so that jumpstarted my day, and then later in the afternoon I'll be meeting a bunch of prominent Filipinos at the FilExpo event.

I love life. Again.

I had a hair cut. It's my first time I am wearing my hair this short in Dubai. It's always been straight and long. I feel so much lighter, but at the same time I am a bit insecure. My long hair was always something that people liked about me, at least my expat friends. I feel like I have exposed my big face, among other parts of me.

In Manila I had no problem cutting my hair super short, and not styling it. I know that every strand, whether in place or otherwise, represented me --- flakiness and all. Now I feel there are many things that I shouldn't be revealing to people, mainly because they are not ready to accept them.

I have secrets, and they are best kept in a place like this, where people have different backgrounds, opinions and interpretations of things. And I can't not give a rat's ass about them, because I am dealing with them every day and I need to maintain cordial relations with every one if I want my life to be conflict-free.

I don't think I am creating conflict within myself though. On the contrary, I think I am being myself. I am a born pleaser. I live to please people and get their approval. Not a good thing, but this attitude pushes me to do more, to do my best.

So yeah this hair cut might turn out to be a good thing after all. How? I'm going to find out soon.

Nobody does it better, according to Carly Simon. I’ve been singing that song at the karaoke bar for ages and I still haven’t found someone good, let alone someone who does it better.

Highlights of my work week:

1. I got my business cards today. Yay!
2. I got some stuff from my mother, courtesy of Roy. I wore one of the tops she gave me at an event yesterday.
3. I alphabetized by business cards. Lorna also gave me an address book so I can list down all the numbers I’ve written on pieces of paper which are now kept under my drawer.
4. Someone gave me flowers. They’re lovely. You should see me now, I’m blushing.
5. Touch My Body played on the radio twice today, and Rasool and I got a kick out of it.
6. I attended a press conference by the government. It was about how they planned to prevent fires. On the same day a fire broke out in Al Quoz.
7. I slept nine and a half hours the other day and 9 hours yesterday.
8. Decided to do something about my weight. Today is my last day snacking on lard. I had a cheeseburger, fries, pork menudo and rice. I’m jumbo Zeena today. Tomorrow is a new day.
9. I am no longer constipated, thank you very much.
10. I am smoking less.

At the age of 18, I was inevitably thrown into the world of dating, a shocking experience that was further worsened by the fact that it had to naturally take place after my turbulent puberty years, when I was chubby, insecure and clueless about boys --- qualities that repel men.

My first few dates were not successful, but my fears of not getting the hang of this whole dating thing were assuaged when I had my first boyfriend. We lasted almost three years, and towards the end of the relationship, I realized I have not reached the end of the road yet. In fact, it was just the beginning of a long and sometimes frustrating journey to not being single. And so I went out on blind dates, and some of them might as well have been literally blind. Some of them were creeps. I bet the others thought I was the creep.

And this journey seems far from over. A number of reasons. 1. I am only 25 years old; a serious relationship that may lead to marriage is not an option. 2. I am single and still looking, and I am not one to approach someone I fancy, so I guess waiting is the most stupid but safest thing to do in order to not mess things up with a guy. 3. I have not met anyone I want to be with for a very long time. My male friend says it’s all about excitement. I want a guy because he is new, and we have a lot of things to talk about and laugh at and make fun of. Once that fun phase is over, discontent takes charge and I lose sight of any future that might have been miserable anyway.

And I am not in any way unique in this department. Millions of women suffer from dating dilemmas at any given time. Our stories are everywhere. We were portrayed by Bridget Jones and mocked in many other chick flicks, written about by countless of chick lit authors, turned into statistics by bachelors who don’t have anything better to do than divulge information about their conquests, and pitied by the ones who are hooked up.

But the focus has been so much on us that we fail to take a peek at the other side of the fence, where countless of nerds, dorks and chumps cringe at the thought of not getting the girl they like, or not getting a girl at all. And their story was made clear to me through a book called The Game, written by Neil Strauss. He talked about his experiences socializing with allegedly the world’s best pick up artists, who could steal a guy’s girlfriend under his nose in minutes. I am not yet finished with the book, but I am resigned to the idea that yes, guys also have it bad. Strauss made it clear that the book is a factual account of how he mingled and emulated different pick up artists, whose techniques ranged from magic tricks to a list of cocky-funny jokes they have used hundreds of times to hook up with hundreds of girls. However I still couldn’t believe such men existed (either that or I was not worth the trouble of having to bring all those props just to get my phone number), so I went online and looked them up. And there they were, the websites freely available to all the guys who want to get laid fast and all the girls who want to know how men actually seal the deal. www.puatraining.com and www.themysterymethod.com are only two of the most popular websites on this subject matter, and I’ll leave all the details for you to research.

Learning about this nonsense -- which these men claim as an art/science/result of extensive research in psychology – has made me feel more cautious and suspicious of intentions. If a guy has genuine feelings, he would not resort to phony methods and project a false image to start friendship with a girl. I must admit, suave guys are really a turn-on, but finding out that all this pizzazz roots from insecurity --- the feeling I hate the most --- and takes elaborate practice, then there’s nothing more disgusting and irritating and… well, disappointing.

I am wary of bachelors out there, but more than that, I am on the look out for the simple guys, who are nice and offer nothing but a simple hello. No matter how witty pick up lines are, I now think they’re all lame. Even the prospect of having more excitement in my life isn’t enough reason to make me write my number on a piece of tissue paper. Schemers may kick off fast, but they also kill it as soon as girls find out about their phony act. Nice* guys don’t finish last. They simply last longer.

Nice here is used in the context of genuineness. It pertains to guys who are not aware of any game or schemes, or may be aware of them but do not bother to use them. They may be arrogant, dorky, or plain, but at least they are true and are not evil enough to fool girls, making them nice.

When you're searching your soul,
When you're searching for pleasure
How often, pain is all you'll find?
But when you're coasting along
And nobody's trying too hard
You can turn around and like where you are

-When I'm Thinking About You, The Sundays

Sick

I'm not well. I haven't been for the past week. I guess I was just in denial because I didn't want to miss dinners, karaoke dates, good stuff at work. But now the heat and my bad eating and drinking habits have taken a toll on my health,and I need to keep it in check. So I finally acknowledged that I am sick, and I am going to be better by the end of the day, Tomorrow, I will kick ass at work. I am looking forward to an evening of nothing. No karaoke, we're supposed to mourn the death of the ruler's brother.

Today I made a list of things to do, and I've checked almost half of them. I already washed my underwear (not the most fun on the list, for sure), cooked lunch for myself and Eve, swept the floor, cleaned the bathroom, shaved all unwanted hair, soaked my feet in this minty concoction, and had tea to aid my stupid indigestion.


I've realized that denial actually worsened my illness. I was sick and dehydrated but still went to Ajman and walked under the sun --- 45 degrees or higher --- for three, four hours. By the time I got home yesterday, I was vomiting and pooping and had a bad bad headache and felt my stomach contracting like crazy. Gross right?

Well, now I plan to get better. I want to end the work week with a bang, just like how I started it. I want to enjoy my weekend by making it well-deserved. More importantly, I'll try to enjoy it without drinking. Ok maybe a mojito to quench my thirst.

Plus I need to sleep. All the eye cream in the world will never be be good enough to replace 8 hours of sleep every day. I can't keep on living like a zombie. It's not right. It's messing up my brains and giving me headaches.

And I need to go out. See new places. I've been going to the same bars and coffee shops and restaurants and I need a change. Maybe that's what's making me feel sick. Sick and tired. I'm doing the same old thing, feeling the same old feelings, and chaining myseld to routine. Tsk tsk tsk.

Ok on the weekend, I will do something different. Maybe wear a wig, meet a new friend, or try new food.

This is exactly the kind of thing that makes me a little kinder, and things a little more visible to me.
Last evening I was enjoying a glass of Baileys and milk when the doorbell rang. I eagerly opened the door to find a Chinese lady with bags full of copy copy DVDs.
My knee-jerk reaction has always been to say "no money, she she..." and shut the door.
And then I realized, the Chinese lady was human too. And I needed someone --- anyone --- to keep my mind off the very distracting and destructive thought of the boy next door.
So I let her in and bought what seemed like a 1000-in-1 DVD for only 20 AED. Not bad. Not bad at all.
So she thanked me and kept on smiling like she was trying to tell me something. While I didn't want to answer her with my meaningless forced smiling, I got creative. I opened the BBC website and showed her the pictures of the recent earthquake in China. Her face fell. Ok I just ruined her day.
Anyway we ended our chat happily, by exchanging She She's. And she promised to be back. When she's back I hope I won't ignore her anymore.
Even if I had my life back.
So there. I can't believe certain feelings soften your boundaries and allow you to be more open to others.
This is the kind of feeling that makes you finally buy a DVD from the Chinese lady you usually shooed away on a normal day.
This is the kind of feeling that makes you buy hair spray.
This is the kind of feeling that discourages you to eat like a trucker.
This is the kind of feeling that makes you watch the movies and read the books you've put off for so long.
This is the kind of feeling that just makes you stand in front of the mirror and dance to Glamorous by Fergie.
And make sure that your hair is the right kind of messy.
And sleep on Desperate Housewives dreaming of killing Terri Hatcher.

And I don't understand
Why trivial feels good
It flows in my bloodstream
Though it never should

I want to walk away
But it runs towards me
Awakens my senses
Sets me free

It's a nasty stain
An awkward joke
A friendlly banter
Another prolonged hoax

I can't believe I spilled red wine all over his new sofa. It's peach, and it's four days old. And yes, I could tell he was livid inside. How could he show anger to a lady who has obviously reapplied lip gloss a dozen times and combed her hair so that the fringes rested excatly on her cheeks, giving him the opportunity to brush them with his fingers? He kept that Joker-like smile on his face, and I was still happy he had the decency not to throw me out of his place, even though I conveniently live next door.

Nevertheless, I think, his kind forgiveness was a complete act. Not a good one even. I spilled wine on myself first before I accidentally splashed it on the sofa. My cute top, my skirt. All over me. If I walked out in the hall way my other neighbors would think I was fermenting. And yet he never even bothered to ask if I was okay. He asked if I wanted to wash my skirt (which would mean I would have to step out of his bathroom skirtless), and I refused. He could have just shown some concern. The way he looked at his poor peach sofa, and the way he scrubbed it silly with a stain remover, you'd think I wasn't there. But I had to be there because I spilled the wine.

He's a furniture freak. But why would a man redecorate his house fifty seven times solely for his pleasure? I have not heard of furniture fetish, but I DO know that gay people are the best in furniture design. It's their passion.

Speaking of passion, I am not very passionate about this thing. He's my next door neighbor and if we got too involved, I would mess things up. Big time. And even in my building I wouldn't be able to move around with liberty. This morning I had to take the stairs because his friends crashed his place last night and we found ourselves heading for the lift at 8 AM. I didn't want to exchange awkward looks with them in the lift, so I ran down three floors (panting and all) just to catch my bus.

That was absolutely appalling. I hope I don't have too many cute neighbors. Ok one more wouldn't hurt.

Dating has always been an exciting part of my life. Most of the time though, I am not in the dating loop.

In a year, maybe five guys would ask for my number, two of them would actually call, and well, those two are most likely to just mess it up before the third date.

There are times when I get a little impatient, but most of the time I just sit back and relax. Oh and drink.

Last week the guy next door (literally the guy in the flat next to ours) asked for my number. We said hi while waiting for the lift and then in the lift, we exchanged How are yous. And then on the ground floor, he out down his coffee mug and whipped out his... mobile phone and asked for my number. Great. Last evening he said we should get together some time. So the big question is, will we be able to do that? And the bigger question is, are we going to get along? If not then I would have to take a longer route going to my flat just to avoid his door.

My point is, ok this stage is very exciting, and I can't wait to see how this turns out. If he turned out to be an idiot, I would be so disappointed.

I never for the life of me imagined myself in this position, at this point of my life. The stakes are higher now, but I have never been more comfortable with what I am doing. My family is also facing some tough challenges.

However seemingly overwhelming, I think that all these simultaneous changes are not an accident. After all, the whole universe knows that Mama and Zoe are two of the strongest females I have ever known, the one and only reason they are facing a lot of intertwined transitions that are bound to turn our life around as a family.

I moved to a new flat with Ethel. It's probably the boldest move I've done in the first quarter of the year. Why not? the place is nice. It's fully furnished, the neighborhood is quiet, and the things I need are accessible within the area. I am still close to my friends and I have nothing to worry about when it comes to getting some rest after a long day at work. We have a nice living area, a dining area where I can have wine and write in my journal, a nice balcony where I can sit back, relax and watch my neighbors play basketball or park their cars like idiots, and of course our very our kitchen where I can experiment with ... well, food. I don't know. I'll probably boil some potatoes tonight. Or tomorrow.

I have been losing sleep these days... but don't worry, it's not over something bad. Jel lent me a DVD of this reality series called In the Lot, where upcoming directors compete to work with Stephen Spielberg and score a million dollar deal with Dreamworks. Not bad. I like watching 20 different movies in one sitting, hence the eye bags. Plus the host, Adriana Costa is one of the most beautiful girls I have seen. So there. Perfect recipe for insomnia.

Work is also very very rewarding. I have been doing my job well enough for me not to worry about losing it, so that can't be a bad thing.

My mom and I are constantly communicating, so I am not worried about her and my sister. We have never been closer. I love that feeling. I am going to chase it forever.

On the weekend I think I will get some sleep and visit a few friends. I kind of want some time alone. A few well-deserved days off just to recharge and regain my zest for life.

Oh, and yesterday I cleaned my toe nails. Yes, after much cruel criticism from colleagues and friends, I decided to push back those cuticles a bit and scrub that dead skin off my big toe.

Ummm yeah I guess that's it.

My colleagues punked me today.
They involved our big boss and they totally made my armpits sweat like anything.
Anyway I think it was a great idea for me to just shut up and own up to my mistake.
Or else I would have looked like an idiot in front of everyone in the boss's office.
I actually feel kinda special. No one has ever pulled an April Fool prank on me.
In a way, yeah I am honored. Stupid to be thinking so but what the hell.
Ok I admit it. I was hung over yesterday, and wasn't able to go to work.
Many would think that was retarded, but I say I'm human and I wasn't about to show up at work reeking of alcohol.
Plus I felt so guilty I made sure my story for today was comprehensive.

I totally messed up at work today. And I wasn't even there. Long story.
But tomorrow hopefully I can do a much better job.
That was such a disgusting move. Wrong. Wrong.
Loved the wine though.

Why I am Excited to Move

I am moving into a new flat in four days and I am excited! There are a few reasons actually:

1. I am moving into a fully furnished studio apartment with only one roommate, which means more space for myself and less computations when paying for stuff like water and electricity.

2. I am much happier that the other three times I moved, no hang ups or bad memories that go with the leaving and packing, and there are no saddening events that have transpired so far to make moving hell for me.

3. I really think that this is the next step to getting a place of my own. In a year I can probably get my own place and experience living alone, in every sense of the phrase. Well let's wish I would have found a decent boyfriend then. But who cares.
Me. I care.

4. I am increasing my expenses, which means I have no choice but to work harder and consequently earn more. You might think that working twice as hard would not necessarily mean getting compensated better, but I guess I don't have time to believe that. No matter how cynical this world may seem, as my friend had pointed out, if you just do whatever you want and feel it's right, then everything will fall into place. Everything.

5. I can cook, which is cool. I had started learning to make edible stuff at Colin's place, but I had to give it up when I moved into another place. Now I want to pursue that. My first dish would probably be something straight from my mom's recipe box.

6. There is a basketball court right in front of our building. Awesome. Total body work out without having to pay or worry about transportation. Cool.

These are just some of the reasons I am thrilled to move. Of course I am getting goosebumps just thinking about the additional expenses, but goosebumps are fine. Based on experience in live entertainment, goosebumps are a precedent to a successful performance. For sure.

5.

My Weekend

Yeah, I had a fun weekend.
Pooped from my very productive Abu Dhabi trip on Thursday. I headed straight to my friend's place to have wine and cheese. Minutes into our conversation, I fell asleep, snoring and all.
On Friday, Sherry and I went swimming at my friend's building, and I had an awesome time just trying to get some sun. I am seven shades darker now, no big deal.
In the evening, after a meeting, we went straight to the karaoke bar. Modesty aside, I kicked ass once again. I don't think there will ever come a time when I would suck at karaoke. At least with the songs I like. I would like to believe that together with my mastery of converting feelings of sadness and all the other loser thoughts that go with it into golden opportunities to creatively handle life's challenges, I have also developed an uncanny talent for singing like a pro. Of course I am kidding.
But what the hell. As long as I don't sing She's Always A Woman by Billy Joel ever again, I will continue to be fine and well-loved at that joint.
Ok so I went home Friday a bit tipsy and annoyed at a bunch or middle-aged Germans in grey suits who all tried their best to vex me when I was singing a Stevie Wonder song. Well, they failed. I emerged the victor. And they're still bald.
Saturday... hmm... I kicked off my day with a huge serving of The Office Season 3 episodes. Healthier than breakfast, if you asked me. Not only does it keep me from being hungry (I realized I had no food anyway), it makes me laugh. And there's nothing like loud laughter to start the day. Then I received a call from my friend Boki, and we bought coffee from the nearby petrol station. He dropped me off at my friend's building, where I took full advantage of the steam bath and sauna, and had lunch.
At 4 PM my neighbor picked me up and we went to Uptown Mirdif. I accomplished something that evening - I sent money to my friend. I told her to buy Mama a watch for her birthday, and she did! I was so happy because it was exactly what Mama wanted. Anything for my mother. Absolutely anything.
So we went around Uptown Mirdif, a charming place where you can breathe fresh air, go shopping for knick knacks, and look at the children going down the giant inflatable slide in the middle of the "plaza".
Then we met up with Jel and Johnny and we suddenly had this crazy idea to visit the karaoke bar in my soon-to-be apartment building. It was a big flop, mainly because of the quality of the sound in the place. We rocked.
So there. That was my weekend. Fully booked.
Uhhh.... no, there is no moral lesson to this story. I just wanted to write about my weekend. Feels good.
Thanks for reading.

life's questions

I filed a story today and it felt good to officially finish work at 11:30 in the morning. I had two lunches, both with rice. I know, what a pig right? But yesterday I had nothing to eat for lunch because I was in Abu Dhabi all day working my butt off. But you know what? It feels weird not having anything to do. I didn’t even have to choose between stuffing my face and reading hilarious The Office quotes on the net. I did both, and it was okay! I didn’t neglect any task or forget to do something. I was literally done with work even before lunch! Tomorrow I am going to Abu Dhabi again for another kick ass story, and even though I love Abu Dhabi and would actually consider living there if a good offer came my way, I hate having to go on a long trip only to reach a destination where you’re supposed to start working. Long trips are for holidays, otherwise just slit my throat and stitch it up when we get there.

Oh and today I didn’t take a shower. Don’t ask me why. Not that I’m uninspired or anything negative like that, it’s just that I had five minutes to prepare and I didn’t want to be late. Ok, my carpool was late. Big time. I was standing in front of my building for five, six minutes trying to look cool and patient, when I could have spent that precious time shampooing.

Ok so back to the main idea. I think I am happiest when I am given something to do. A very important task, perhaps a full-day coverage of a local celebration. Or a feature on those 8-foot monsters who roamed around Global Village, getting people to have their pictures taken with them for ten dirhams. What were their lives like? Did they have to do that because their mothers were sick? Or were they wealthy children who decided to turn their backs on their parents and their wealth for the sake of freedom? Or do they just want fame and glory?

You know what, these are the questions we need to be asking ourselves. I've had time to do it, because I’m so good I finished work at 11:30 AM. So yeah, when you do have free time, you can puzzle yourself with life’s questions.