A Handful of Yuletide Cheer

O, Christmas tree, leeeetle Christmas tree...

Isn't it adorable?

Doha Dancing

Korean delight

Here's why I love where I live:

Tonight, I walked across the street to the Korean restaurant and enjoyed a very cheap and utterly delicious table full of spicy things next to a party of about a dozen collared korean guys who seemed to be having some sort of going-away party where they did round after round of toasts. And BOY do koreans have a funny toasting style. They stand up, start talking blah blah blah blah, then conclude their speech with about 20 seconds of very gutteral, aggressive yelling which sounds rather like they're about to storm the great wall. Then that guy sits down and the next one stands up, and round and round they go. All in all, it's excellent, if somewhat jarring, dining entertainment.

A Gem from the Archives

"The Scarlet Sirens and Their Doubly Dangerous Swords of Doom!"

Dubai, the bestest city - Part 7

Dubai has the FASTEST and MOST STYLISH firefighting force in the universe!

The Dubai municipality has recently unveiled the new fleet of fire-fighting vehicles. Here in the land of gold and luxury, no mere clunky truck will do.

Here we have the world's first, and best, fire-fighting Corvettes...




Who cares whether they can transport any water or not; the important thing is that fire victims feel they are getting the 5-star service they deserve.

Live from Singapore!

Holy giant sea creatures, batman!

The prawns here are as big as my forearm! Wish I had put something in this picture to set it to scale, but you'll just have to believe me -- you could pick one of these up and give someone a wet, smelly club to the head.

And speaking of heads, the thing in the middle is a lobster head. It is the size of my head. It was like looking into a lobster mirror.

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time, there was a fairy princess who was exiled to a very hot place.

Everyday, in this very hot place, the princess would drive amidst enormous sky-piercing monsters, fields of metal insects with blinking antennae, and a never-ending horde of road-raging strangers.

She would do her best to obey the prevailing laws of the land ("work work work shop shop work shop")... but at night she would dream.

She dreamt of recycling for fun. She dreamt of bicylcing to a yoga class. She had organic vegetable fantasies, and... one night... she dreamt she was lost in The Enchanted Brocolli Forrest...

... to be continued...

Dubai, the BESTEST city - part 6

Another reason Dubai is the bestest:
We have amazing companies like DAMAC. With its recent launch of a new tower building, it revealed that it's no mere real estate developer... but actually an innovator in the field of neuropsychology, charting the furthest researches of the brainpower of humankind.

From their Chairman in a recent press release: ‘Overlooking Palm Jumeirah, DAMAC Heights offers a pioneering, premier residential complex that offers distinctive lifestyle expressions with unparalleled opportunities. DAMAC has always believed in unique offerings and DAMAC Heights is a truly one-of-its-kind masterpiece, offering the highest form of luxury that anybody can comprehend.’
(http://propdubai.com/news/988/index.php)

a confession, a tragedy + my first video post

My dirty secret for today is that I have a big soft spot for songs with falsetto. This explains my love of Muse and their gossamer wailing over rumbling bass, and my passion with The Rubettes' "Sugar Baby Love," which slaps you in the face with a full-on falsetto after a mere 15 seconds' diatonic warm-up. And now my obsession has turned to Mika and his "Relax, Take It Easy."

The problem is that, though I love this song and hear it in my head on repeat during most waking hours, it is not possible - in the name of human decency - to sing it aloud. I sound like a trampled cat. And if I sing it in the shower, I sound like a wet trampled cat. And if I sing it in the privacy of my car, zooming through the traffic of SZ Road, I sound like a gay ambulance siren.

And so I am sad. This is my tragedy -- to love a song, and yet to be unable to sing it...

Dubai, the BESTEST city - part 5

Because they've cracked the secret of linguistic alchemy.

Paracelsus couldn't do it.
Isaac Newton couldn't do it.
Tycho Brahe couldn't do it.
But here in Dubai, they've turned our leaden tongues into... you guessed it... GOLD!

A day in the life of Eva: bathroom surprises

I've been meaning for quite a long time to start a "day in the life" series. I think now is the time, considering I've featured a dent on my car without ever having shown the car itself which I've had for almost a year without yet posting any pictures of the gleaming white beauty (the car that is, not my pale albino self... though I will do my best to arrange a picture of me dressed in white lounging on the hood of the white car... it will be like one of those posters that you stare at for 5 minutes before some 3D images lunges for your jugular with a dizzying leap).

Anyway. I will never have the patience to document one real day in its entirety so you'll have to tolerate this "day in the life" series being out of order.

Let's start with my morning bathroom break at work...
One of the great benefits of my job is the incredibly diverse team I work with. We have over 30 nationalities in the headquarter office of my company and, despite the unusual odors from the microwave at lunchtime, this is overwhelmingly a positive thing. However sometimes it does sneak up and confuse me.

For instance, I was recently minding my own business in the toilet when I noticed a Listerine bottle out of the corner of my eye.
Fine, fine, until I looked a little closer and spent the next 30 seconds convinced I had been stricken with dyslexia:

Yes, the bottle reads:
Melawan kuman-kuman penyebab bau mulut, plak & radang gusi gingivitis

Dubai, the BESTEST city - part 4

Where better to experience the wild, wild middle-east?

Let me introduce you to another of Dubai's most excellentest visionarinesses:








From it's website: "Western City was designed using state-of-the-art technology combined with historical elements to create a country environment for tourists by including farms, cowboy shows, and sound and light shows. ...Shows take place the whole day until night giving the public enough time to enjoy each respective show. The public may even choose which show they wish to see at their own convenience, and these shows take place everyday so they may even see them again. The shows involve cowboys driving cattle, Indians chasing buffaloes, wagons of settlers, etc……."

Now, I am thoroughly convinced of the subtlety, class, and cultural tact of this future development, but I would like to clarify a few things about these state-of-the-art shows. For one, are the Indians chasing buffaloes AND wagons of settlers? And secondly, will they import real live American Injuns? I'm sure it would be cheaper if these Indians (like all the other minimum-wage workers in Dubai) were played Phillipinos. Or India-Indians. In leather chaps.

Actually, I'm quite sure I've already seen some of that in an evening entertainment venue in Deira...

Yeeeehaw!

An Homage to Ron

In honor of my dear neglected friend Ron, I am inviting you into my kitchen to enjoy a modern updating of "humble pie"... HUMBLE BROWNIES...

INGREDIENTS:
250 g dark chocolate
1 large rabbi, melted
2 dwarves, beaten
2 cups pixie stick
1 tsp. ABBA extract
1/2 cup puffyamiyumi
pinch of constitutional law
1 drunk olsen twin (doesn't matter which one)
walnuts

RECIPE:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Bring the chocolate and melted rabbi to a boil over low heat, stirring constantly, then remove from heat.

In a large bowl, beat the 2 dwarves until light and fluffy, then add the pixie stick and the abba extract and continue beating until creamy.

Beat in the slightly cooled chocolate rabbi mixture, and alternate in puffyamiumi with a pinch constitutional law. Fold in walnuts and the drunk olsen twin.

Pour into a 9x11 glass brownie pan and bake for 35 minutes or until the olsen is slightly browned on top but still gooey in the middle. Let cool for approximately 3 months so Eva knows how you felt when she ignored your utterly fabulous email.

"Cause every time I seem to fall in love... Crash! Boom! Bang!"

I crashed into my boyfriend from behind! Not metaphorically, really, I hit him when we were waiting at a light.

Here's my little dent. I don't know whether to be proud of her or embarrassed that she's so small. Or just embarrased that I crashed into a stationary object.

Though, it must be said, it isn't nearly as embarassing as when mahboyfriend crashed into the back of a Rainbow milk truck because he was busy making faces at Ve and I as we drove alongside.

The innocent milk truck:






The not-so-innocent provocateurs of the crash:

A poem for today: friday may 18

"Oatmeal"

I eat oatmeal for breakfast.
I make it on the hot plate and put skimmed milk on it.
I eat it alone.
I am aware it is not good to eat oatmeal alone.
Its consistency is such that is better for your mental health if somebody eats it with you.
That is why I often think up an imaginary companion to have breakfast with.
Possibly it is even worse to eat oatmeal with an imaginary companion.
Nevertheless, yesterday morning, I ate my oatmeal porridge, as he called it with John Keats.
Keats said I was absolutely right to invite him:
due to its glutinous texture, gluey lumpishness, hint of slime, and unsual willingness to disintigrate,
oatmeal should not be eaten alone.
He said that in his opinion, however, it is perfectly OK to eat it with an imaginary companion, and that
he himself had enjoyed memorable porridges with Edmund Spenser and John Milton.
Even if eating oatmeal with an imaginary companion is not as
wholesome as Keats claims, still, you can learn something from it.
Yesterday morning, for instance, Keats told me about writing the "Ode to a Nightingale."
He had a heck of a time finishing it those were his words "Oi 'ad a 'eck of a toime," he said, more or less, speaking through his porridge.
He wrote it quickly, on scraps of paper, which he then stuck in his pocket,
but when he got home he couldn't figure out the order of the stanzas,
and he and a friend spread the papers on a table, and they
made some sense of them, but he isn't sure to this day if they got it right.
An entire stanza may have slipped into the lining of his jacket through a hole in his pocket.
He still wonders about the occasional sense of drift between stanzas,
and the way here and there a line will go into the configuration of a Moslem at prayer, then raise itself up
and peer about, and then lay \ itself down slightly off the mark,
causing the poem to move forward with a reckless, shining wobble.
He said someone told him that later in life Wordsworth heard about the scraps of paper on the table, and tried shuffling some
stanzas of his own, but only made matters worse.
I would not have known any of this but for my reluctance to eat oatmeal alone.
When breakfast was over, John recited "To Autumn."
He recited it slowly, with much feeling, and he articulated the words lovingly, and his odd accent sounded sweet.
He didn't offer the story of writing "To Autumn," I doubt if there is much of one.
But he did say the sight of a just-harvested oat field go thim started on it, and two of the lines,
"For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells" and "Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours,"
came to him while eating oatmeal alone.
I can see him drawing a spoon through the stuff, gazing into the glimmering furrows, muttering.
Maybe there is no sublime; only the shining of the amnion's tatters.
For supper tonight I am going to have a baked potato left over from lunch.
I am aware that a leftover baked potato is damp, slippery, and simultaneaously gummy and crumbly,
and therefore I'm going to invite Patrick Kavanagh to join me.

Galway Kinnell

Slightly belated but still as weird as ever

What scandalous discrimination against coconuts. How can I celebrate Mahashivratri Day without my coconuts?

But in all seriousness, if anyone can explain to me why Mahashivratri Day this year was coconut-free, or what agarbatis are... or what Mahashivratri Day is, that would be grand.

Hole-in-the-Wall Bakery

From a midnight walk in Satwa, wearing my yellow salwar kameez, which makes all the Indians extra-smiley

My Brother, the Mexican Pimp in Training

I am pleased to announce my brother's recent acquisition of a vehicle to facilitate his various misadventures. It is a '79 Ranchero, which is indeed a very Metro-esque car, and I expect they will spread good cheer and cheap beer throughout southern California.

I conducted an email interview with him to learn a little more about this exciting new partnership:

Metro: "YEAH!!!! CAR!!!!"

Eva: "What is your car’s anthem song?"
Metro: "Donkey Butt by 2 Live Crew"

Eva: "What is your car’s drink of choice?"
Metro: "Bacardi's Watermelon Rum"

Eva: "If your car could pick its own dashboard decoration, what would it be?"
Metro: "Pizza"

Eva: " Is your car allergic to anything?"
Metro: "Crayons"

Eva: "Does your car like pie? What kind?"
Metro: "Yeah, Pizza Pie. On the dashboard"

Eva: "If your car could replace its wheels with something else, what would it choose?"
Metro: "Tank tracks"

Eva: "If your car witnessed a bank robbery, what would it do?"
Metro: "Honk cause it likes cookies. And robbers"

Eva: "Does your car wear tighty whiteys or boxers?"
Metro: "Boxers. Feel the breeze."

Eva: "If your car had a voice, who would it sound like?"
Metro: "Johnny Bravo"

Eva: "What would your car do on a rainy afternoon with a can of green paint, 3 rollerskates, a pair of ninjas, and a ham?"
Metro: "PARTY!!! Each ninja gets A roller skate to wear on their left foot, push themsleves around with the right foot, and chase the green painted ham that's been stuffed in the other roller skate and is being pushed around by my car. The rain means nothing."


Thanks Metro and Señor 79! I wish you many happy and speeding-ticket-free days together...

Jurassic Bedroom

Not to toot my own trumpet, but I believe I have achieved a monumental scientific breakthrough and I humbly request you to shout my praises from your rooftop.

Last week before I moving house, whilst most non-geniuses would be preoccupied with packing, boxing, and other plebian concerns, I was double-checking intricate pulvo-pulmotic tests in my highly secure underbed laboratory. When the anticipated date finally arrived, I assembled a prestigious audience of members of the Umm Suqeim Amateur Scientists League and some Keralan moving men to announce the hitherto undreamt-of evolutionary alteration… THE DUST DINASAUR.

I took the DNA of the common dust bunny, injected it with 12 months of darkness, rage, and neglect, carefully modified its intake of oxygen, and eureka!... a dust creature with massive bulk and unsurpassed predatory skills. Note how they travel in tribal packs, laying waste to any socks or small pieces of paper that they come across. Beware, beware the dust dinasaur, and tremble before my mighty scientific power.

Dubai, the BESTEST city - part 3

What's more impressive than a very tall building? ...
A very tall building upside down! And we have one!

"Amlak Al Madina Real Estates announced the launch of the Upside Down Tower in Dubai with a total cost of AED 800 million. The tower consists of two buildings next to each other one of them is an upside down replica of the other. ... Not only that the tower will look inverted from the outside but it will look inverted from the inside as well. Mentioned examples are palm trees, other indoor plants, water fountains, elevators, and even the numbering sequence of floors."


Woopee!

Dubai, the BESTEST city - part 2

Why is Dubai the bestest city, you ask?

We could withstand an attack by Godzilla, that's why.

If Godzilla ever stomps his way down from Abu Dhabi, roaring bloody murder and flexing his enormous claws in anticipation, he would be deterred by a security guard his size. You see, local developer AAA Group is doing the citizens of Dubai a great service by building a sentry formidable enough to stop Godzilla in his tracks. They are building... a 35-storey tower in the shape of a man in traditional Gulf dress.

I am not kidding.


So, let's applaud; everyone now, let's applaud the AAA Group for creating a city hero who would open a 140 meter tall can of khaleeji whoopass on any passing mutant lizards looking for a fight, and let's recognize that Dubai is the bestest at city security.

And let's also get excited about the world-firstestness of this innovative structure! I for one would like to pre-register for a 2-bedroom apartment in the man's left buttock! And I'm hoping that, when I want to visit my friend living in a flat in his shoulder, I can ride the spine-themed elevator! Nothing says "class" like chrome-detailed vertebrae.

But that's not all, I read in a different artice that "the peak may include a rotating restaurant and conference centre." Assuming that the peak is his head, we could have the world's first (and BEST!) exorcist-themed architectural triumph, in which you can enjoy a 360 dirham glass of champagne and some fine canapes as you rotate 360 degrees in finest cranial luxury.

Dubai, the BESTEST city - part 1

We (lebneni and I) have decided that we should be hired by the big man to run a coordinated marketing campaign for Dubai. We would prefer payment in shawarmas, but will also except gold nuggets, gold boulders, gold buildings, and/or a private island, made of gold.

Our new campaign will harness and build upon already-existing marketing messages, most of which are perhaps too subtle to convey the true awesomestness of this place… e.g.,
“Burj Dubai: the most prestigious square kilometer on the planet"
and "Dubai Mall: the earth has a new center"

These are eloquent and delicate messages and I’m concerned that a visitor, groggy still from his red-eye flight and with his sense of urban potential numbed from years of living in New York or London, well, he might fail to grasp our world-class premiumosity and revolutionary visions of classic luxury.

So, let’s make it easy for everyone with this campaign theme… "Dubai is THE BESTEST CITY EVER!"

And with that, I would like to begin a series within this blog, which I will dedicate to updating you on Dubai’s bestestness.

Stay tuned, it will redefine your sense of lifestyle...

Save me!

I have most alarming news. The golden-rumped elephant shrew and the slender loris are in danger of going extinct.



I have to admit that, despite my flax-munching, yoga-twisting, recycled toilet paper hippy ways, my commitment to species saving activity has hitherto been limited to buying those deeelICious Endangered Species Chocolate bars (http://www.chocolatebar.com). But now that the golden-rumped elephant shrew and the slender loris are on the line, I think it’s time to step it up!

But, um, what do I do? How do I save these little critters? Can I pull a Dian Fossey and live in their midst, studying their quiet majesty, and running with them through the jungle? Can I start a Slender Loris farm here in Umm Suqeim? That sounds like a sweet plan... I’ll recreate their natural habitat in my back garden and, for those of them that want to adopt a more modern Western lifestyle, they can come inside and live in my cupboards. I’ll sew little tuxedos for the lorises (lorii?) and tu-tus for the golden-butted shrews and train them to prepare fancy cocktails, and talk. Yeah.

Tell me this guy wouldn't look sharp in a tux?

Onions

I have a terrible eye infection. I feel like The Flaming Eye of Sauron. But I don’t want my blog to be invaded by freaky little Tolkien fans, so I will instead pursue this metaphor: it feels like the floor is made of onions.

And on that note, I have some fun facts about onions for you:
1) Egyptians believed onions had strength-producing powers, therefore, they were fed to labors who built the pyramids.
2) Roman gladiators were rubbed down with onion to firm up their muscles.
3) In the Middle Ages onions were such an important food that people would pay for their rent with onions and even give onions as gifts.
4) Libya boasts the maximum per capita consumption of onions with 66.8 pounds of onion consumed per person per year.
5) Parsley can help you get rid of onion breath.
6) The largest onion ever grown weighed 10 pounds 14 ounces. It was grown by V. Thorp of Silsden, England.

just a thought

I don't like movies set in outer space.

Better at science than playing with others

3 recent BBC news articles indicate that the US military is astoundingly smart. Really.

No, really! Look, this stuff is amazing:

US military unveils heat-ray gun
The US military has given the first public display of what it says is a revolutionary heat-ray weapon to repel enemies or disperse hostile crowds which projects an invisible high energy beam that produces a sudden burning feeling, but is said to be harmless.
(http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6297149.stm)

US military looks to 'black ice'
The US military is developing a novel weapon - artificial black ice - for use in arid environments. It would cause enemy vehicles and soldiers to lose footing, whilst a spray-on "reversal agent" could be incorporated into boots and tyres to prevent friendly forces sliding around.
(http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/6295567.stm)


US 'plans stealth shark spies'
Pentagon scientists are planning to turn sharks into "stealth spies" capable of tracking vessels undetected. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4767428.stm)


So that whole bully persona is just a front to disguise the fact that we are actually lovable, EVIL GENIUSES!
muahaha MUAAAHAHAHA MUAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!

A clarinetist to watch out for

Bet you thought I was being ironic with that title.

But no, just as there are lady accordianists whom I respect and admire, there is a clarinetist that you MUST watch out for, if you are interested in gypsies, Joy, or clarinets. His name is Ismail Lumanovski. He is a 22-yr-old Julliard student with devilishly fast fingers, and he fronts the New York Gypsy All-Stars, which gave the best live concert I’ve ever seen last Saturday. I was screaming along to songs in languages I don’t even know.



No recorded albums yet, but I’m waiting. With my breath held. (Hurry up, Ismail...)

Opera for the masses?

In Manhattan last week I was lucky enough to catch a global premiere… the first-ever live simulcast of a Met opera into movie theaters around the world. I think this is a fab idea. An opera ticket for $18…and you can wear a hoodie and jeans… and munch popcorn and slurp a diet coke!

I was especially excited about the opera itself, The First Emperor, by Tan Dun (composer of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which I adore for its exotic epic sentimentality and magic twinkly treetop theatrics). Unfortunately, I think the opera was only a partial success. Costumes were glorious, the set and lighting were grand, and the purely instrumental musical interludes were by turns majestic and spectacularly eerie (including some handheld instrument that looked like a bottomless, haunted birdcage turned an upside-down and played with a bow). Another highlight was the chinese acrobatics and the way the actors imported from the Peking Opera would sometimes contort into ludicrous 'praying mantis’ positions to emphasize a sentence. Oooh, and my other favorite thing was watching the orchestra grapple with ancient Chinese grunting – there was one shot of a middle-aged musician in pearls and a prim black sweater chanting along to the chorus’ “HAAA!!… HOO!!… HAASHY!!” which is what I imagine one would say whilst stomping, glowering, and preparing to decapitate one’s mortal enemy. That was worth the price of admission alone.

On the downside, the production completely failed to engage me on an emotional level. For one thing, the lyrics were in English – a fatal flaw as far as I’m concerned. As a novice opera-goer, I find the art form to be awkward enough with those stiff stage movements and warbly vocal abstractions. It’s even harder to swallow when you know that they've boomed out two dozen syllables to say “you are the princess.” Even worse is the story itself. It’s the story about a man who unites a country by killing everyone who didn’t want to be united. How you can ruin the excitement of that is really beyond me.

Still, kudos to Tan Dun for putting some Chinesiness into opera. And kudos to the Met for being brave enough to challenge the elitism of the medium and giving us cinema-goers a treat. I hope they make it a regular program…

A Neon Kiss