Catching up

My blogging recently has become sporadic at best, and I sometimes wonder what the point of it all is, but then remember that it's good to write stuff down, and if this is the outlet, so be it.

Job is fine, the nonsense in Washington calmed down and they moved on to furiously debate offshore drilling instead of the creation of an alternate Axis of Evil for the oil price, constituting Dubai & London. If they are debating opening up the Canadian shale fields with the same (non-existent) level of insight in which they looked in to the speculator issue, then I fear for the fate of them mooses up in Canuk lands.

It's still summer, which still sucks. I was discussing this fact with some friends on Friday night, and put forward the theory that every autumn, Dubaians forget the hideousness of the sticky days of august, and revel so much in the cooler winter months that by the time it all rolls round again, all one can hear is a chorus of "it wasn't this hot last year."

Yes, it was. And it will be next year. And perhaps even hotter the year after that.

You see, my theory is that it is much like childbirth (not that I'd know), in that once your body goes through anything that foul and hideous but receives a lovely reward at the end (eg winter, or a baby... stay with me here) the body then resolves to wipe out the physical memories of discomfort, to allow you to go through it again. Otherwise mankind would die out, as women just wouldn't want to give birth, or Dubai would be empty. Ok, not entirely on a level here, but still, it's a damn good theory.

Dramas abounded yesterday with a leak in Lalanthe's room (I'm currently pet-sitting at M&D's house while they're in the UK) and a hideous crash on the road outside Desert Palm, resulting in big patches of blood soaked sand spotted across the road. Shiver.

On a lighter note, the trip home to the Poozster's wedding was fabulous; Blighty welcomed me with open, sun filled smiles, and all my carefully planned meetings happened flawlessly. I was exhausted, from traipsing round London with a suitcase every day, and drinking too much due to too many meetings with too many wonderful friends that I miss too much, but it was a fantastically special trip. Almost made me wish I was moving back to London, then, as if it was consoling me, the UK obliged with a terrific electric thunderstorm as our little plane sat on the runway waiting to take off. For 2hrs. Kudos to the hilarious Captain who kept me amused with the sarcastic PAs directed at the moaning cow in the row in front of me, who was determined we should take off, even though all air traffic in London had been grounded.

Next, Ms Jennings' wedding in a few weeks time. Very excited, though not quite rested enough yet so will be hibernating and gymming to prepare. Apart from Friday night, when I'm heading out... and... and... ach well, I can sleep on the plane.