I know I had a good weekend as I still have a headache. I managed to have a really long weekend somehow, not sure why, as in terms of time it was no different to any other weekend, but it just felt really long. The very best kind.

Started the weekend in typical fashion, with the boys in the media bar catching up on industry gossip, holidays in australia driving utes, quite a lot of zidane lovin' from S (who has now been rationed to 5min/2hr 0f Zizou chat) and various other inane topics. Waited for the boy E, who claimed he was arriving (2mins, honest) for about 40mins, having walked from Knowledge Village. Smart move. Piled them all in the car and buggered off to Blue Bar - the place to be seen, if you're a sharp eyed reader of a certain marketing industry blog - to meet the rest of the thursday evening crew still marooned in 90's Dubai... Garhoud. (80's Dubai being Jumeriah, and 70's Deira/Sharjah. Sweeping generalizations with enough grains of truth to be relevant). The singer there sang at the wedding of P&S, and was actually fantastic. I thought I remembered that wedding - it was a daytime affair - but had absolutely no recollection of a singer, at all, during any point of the day. And I wasn't the one doing flaming shots and stealing ice. She was actually fantastic, totally winding up the audience (which was full of east german swingers in their mid forties - not that I know what one would look like) and purring over one guy in particular, I'm quite surprised he could actually stand up in a public place when she finished 'Fever'. I seemed to spend the evening glued to my phone, composing dreadfully cringeworthy text messages that I should have deleted before sending, or sent to some fictious number, to get the urge out of my system without doing the damage. Finished off the night in Lotus with H, chatting to some egyptians who she'd met in the gym, who drove fantastic p-extension cars which they insisted on showing off. Saw K & his new lebanese girlfriend too, just back from his dramatic escape from Beirut in a construction van, through Syria. Horrible tales.

After precisely four hours of sleep, I was back in Ray's cab and heading back into town. Picked up N&H, no, sorry, picked up N where we were supposed to meet (and where my car had been unceremoniously marooned) and started text barrage to get H to come meet us. We were heading off in the Jeep for the company trip - to Fujeriah on the E.Coast. Good banter on the way there, snorkeling, sleep, food, drink, gossip, and by 3am I was tucked up with a glass of red watching the grand final to 'Strictly Come Dancing'. Bliss. However I cunningly failed to close the right bit of curtain, as there were three kinds of curtain, with varying styles of closing accoutrement, and I got bored of looking and gave up. A decision that I then completely regretted at 7am when streaming sunshine began attacking my pounding head... amazing how quickly you locate the white out curtains when in acute pain. The combo of blissful darkness and a full english breakfast in bed in crisp white hotel sheets is possibly one of the most relaxing and luxurious experiences, then I turned the TV on and it was sodding Jeremy Clarkson. God bless the BBC?? I think not.

Going skiing tonight, then to some poetry reading or other, must get L to walk the puppy or she'll tear the sofa to bits. Poor pooch is totally missing her real masters, I'm just not devoted enough for the vast amount of love she has to give. George the cat is my buddy. Still, they have each other, and that's all they need.