Chaos ensued at my work place last Thursday. Just before lunch break, someone let out a huge wail. A male in the same floor as I am, but some seats away from me cried loudly. It was a cry of despair, of sadness, of shock.

Someone died.

Apparently, a few minutes earlier, one of our co-workers collapsed while working. Ambulance was called but he was declared dead on arrival at the hospital and that co-worker who cried received a call that his friend was gone. Life – ended just like that.

The whole office was stunned. Everyone shook their heads. Why?

Was it just this morning that we bumped into our late colleague as we rushed for card time-in? He is not even 40 and now he’s dead. What kind of grief will his wife and children face waiting back in India as he was scheduled to fly back home for vacation later that day?

The vibrant atmosphere of the last day of the work week suddenly turned grim. All of us suddenly thought of our own lives as well, how fragile, how unpredictable.

[Top Photo Credit]

On my birthday, I did something I’ve been dying to do for ten months now: I colored my hair. How this is kind of a big deal?

I used to color my hair (covering the gray) every four weeks.

Ten months of  just letting it all go without coloring made me look and feel really old. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with being old but I am ‘just’ 35. I should not be sporting a whole head of graying hair. Yet.

Really this is not out of vanity, it’s something I really needed to do because 50% of my hair is already white. My husband jokes that I look like Rogue in X-Men only that Rogue has streaks of white hair while I have the opposite, most of my hair is white and the black have been reduced to streaks. It is not a cute sight.

After getting pregnant early this year and reading a lot of contradicting articles that it’s ok to color hair while pregnant and then other articles say it is not because the chemicals could seep in my scalp and pass on to the unborn baby, I chose the ‘better safe than sorry’ decision and stopped coloring my hair. The white ones really showed, prompting people to question my age.

I fed baby Ben, put him to sleep and rushed to do my thing. I was done coloring and had showered just before he woke up. My hair is what it’ s supposed to look and I am happy. Now, I’m ready to welcome another year!

So I was shopping for shoes this afternoon together with Pristine. Ah, constantly growing feet! How many of you moms have wished your pockets grow as much as your little one’s feet or bodies do?

I definitely think that.

She needed: a school shoes, a sports shoes for PE class and something for our weekend outing (just in the grocery stores, ‘weekend outings’ just sound exotic so I’m using it). It’s only about 7 weeks until school closes but her shoes is already killing her feet so what’s momma to do but go shopping.

We chose three pairs of shoes.

Big bill.

Then store had this promotion where you pick a scratch card where  discounts of 15%-100% is hidden. People always pick from the middle of the bottom as seen from the other shoppers in front of me at the cashier. Most of them got 15% discount, which is good. When it was my turn, I picked the card on the top.

Cashier: “Are you sure about that, madam?”

Me: “Well, I feel that whatever I choose, it’ll be a big discount anyway so yeah, this card’s fine.”

*insert big smile + secret small prayer to the maker of four leaf clovers*

Voila! I scratched 75% OFF!! Big bill gone!!

Cashier: “……Uhm, is it because you’re pregnant? Pregnant ladies are lucky!”

Whatever it is, I’m just happy I was only able to pay 1/4 of the entire bill and while I’m at it,  I’m going to look out for that million dollar lotto ticket and buy it if I find one.

[Top Photo Credit]

This really has nothing to do with Dubai or living in Dubai but there is a reason that I’ve been slacking from writing blog posts since the new year started. Being blog-lazy is definitely not my New Year’s resolution.

I’ve been hooked on watching the TV show Glee.

Where have I been all these time, right? Like I just came out of my dark cave to marvel at the elephant footprints when the dust settled down and completely missed the herd running across the cave. Something like that. My brother sent me all the episodes of Glee because he thinks it’s pathetic that everyone is swooning over it the past 18 months but her cave dwelling sister. And maybe because he probably knows dudes like Mr. Schuester is my type. *blush*

I rolled my eyes the first time my Twitter timeline was filled wil Glee tweets in 2009. Rachel Berry this, Finn that, meany Sue Silvester stories here and there. Ha! Now it’s completely your turn to roll your eyes on me. Sorry I was late but I am definitely in the Glee wagon!

In fact, I was so there last night that I slept until 2am to finish Season 1. I was never like this since Ally McBeal ended in 2002.

I’ve been living in Dubai for almost four years now. It’s been a long time – long because we didn’t plan anything and thought the first summer would scar us for life and run back to the cold arms of Japan.

That did not happen (and not happening anytime soon).

During these almost four years, I haven’t been to any Debenhams store in Dubai. Unbelievable, I know! With all the big malls and people talking about the lovely dresses and clothes in Debenhams! Last week while waiting to catch a movie, Pristine and I went inside a Debenhams store (in Mirdif City Centre). Oh my!! Everything they said about the store is true! I rarely rave over dresses as I don’t buy them much anyway but the ones there? They are gorgeous and I want one or two…would I be too old to ask something from Santa?

A few nights back, a former neighbor in the Philippines, someone I am very close to like an aunt V finally opened a Facebook account and we had a chat. She had been livingin London for almost 20 years now.

Coincidentally, it was about Debenhams.

V: Hi Grace, can you give me your address so I can send a little gift for Pristine for her birthday next month?

Me: Yay, thanks!! Pristine will be delighted! My address is: xxx, xxx, xxx.

Then we talked about the wet, crappy weather in London, our daughters and other general mommy talk.

V: Hey, would you like a dress?

Me: Is this question for real?

V: Haha, of course! I take that as a yes – so what’s your size in UK sizing please?

Oh dear, the most difficult question in the world…

V: UK14?

Me: Hmmm, I think I’m a UK12 now.

US-UK size chart

V: Really? You have lost so much weight! UK12 is a slim size!

I started to get a bit edgy and sweaty.

Me: Well, I’ve been trying hard.

V: I plan to shop in Debenhams and I’ll pick something for you!

Me: Really!!! I’m so excited! But you don’t really have to do it.

Yeah right, as if I meant that!

V: So UK12 then huh?

Me: Oh wait, the holidays are coming and I don’t want to look constipated in the pictures…and I want to breathe properly, ‘ya know?

V: Your point please.

Me: errr, can we make it a UK14?

V: I thought that was big for you already?

Now, I don’t know what’s right anymore.

Me: Well, I just wanna be sure it’ll really fit me so it won’t be a waste, you know? Hee hee

V: Now you’re talking!

*****

Seriously, I wanted a dress from Debenhams and now, I’ll be having one. I’m so excited that it doesn’t matter you all know my dress size now, haha!

Thank you, universe. People of the Earth, please pray I can get into it if it arrives after Christmas.

I’m writing this blog post from home and I will try to actually write something substantial. Or not. I don’t really blog at home because it seems that I can’t – I do all my blogging during breaks at work and nothing at home.

Today starts the three days Eid holidays for me and the rest of the UAE working population. Some have Monday-Wednesday and then back to work on Thursday while government officials and other luckier private sector employees won’t resume to work until next Sunday. Lucky, lucky bunch.

So I’ve got nothing laid out during this three days holiday. I’ve so far cleaned the house and the wardrobe closet and that’s pretty much it. I wanted to run outside but surprise of all surprises, I woke up from a short nap to the sound of RAIN on my room window! If you live in a very dry place where it rains only a few days per year, that is a very nice thing to wake up to. 

OK, nothing substantial – so I might not be blogging until I go back to the office on Thursday. Hope you all have a great week!

Help. My bloggy brain is being hormonal and I can’t write anything sensible. And I won’t force it.

I’ll be back when I have more than two sentences to say.

Thank you very much to all who heeded my plea and left a comment on my photo entry at the Kodak contest. I appreciate each and every one of them. Unfortunately, my entry did not earn the most number of comments so I didn’t win first prize. I was however, a runner-up, which is great.

It’s ok but then I realize (I am new to this Facebook stuff) that for example, in contests like this, it’s not how beautiful or how deserving your entry is but how many friends you have, the time you spend in campaigning – poking your friends and leaving pleas here and there and MOST importantly, how many of them are willing to take the trouble to do a favor on your behalf.

Also, I have realized that specifically, for photo contests, it would have been better for the contest host to SCREEN the entries first so people only vote for the entries that are really presentable/deserving to win. Why? Because what if a Facebooker submits his borish photo ID (or any borish picture for that matter) and gets a lot of support from friends, friends’ friends? Then he/she wins just because he has the most number of votes regardless of the quality of the photo entered.

PLUS if the winning photo is crap, the hosting party will have to cringe when they announce the result of the contest.

Just a thought. But still would like to thank the wonderful people at Kodak ME for hosting the contest and giving everyone that opportunity to win some cool prizes. Apparently, I will get a Kodak M series digital camera. I can’t thank my friends enough for making this happen!

*****

Anyway, moving on, I had a rough day at work, a week even last week. Let’s just say if I were a really impulsive person with a huge backup money, I would have filed for my resignation already. That bad.

Hope we’ll all have a fabulous week this week!

Pristine: “There’s poo on the floor!! There’s poo on the floor!!”

My mom and I dropped everything we were holding, paused whatever we were doing and rushed to the living room where the scream came from. Poo!? Pristine had been out of diaper (and of course toilet trained, she’s almost seven) a long time ago…like, dinosaur-wiped-out-of-the-face-of-the-Earth long time ago. So whose poo is it?

Certainly not mine. Nor the hamster’s!

Examining the suspicious looking thing, about the size of an almond:

Me: “How can you be sure it’s poo?”

Pristine:  “Believe me it IS poo!! I smelled it!!”

Me: “You, SMELLED it!? How can you smell it! Ugh!!”

Pristine: “I had to be sure so you’ll believe me. And it’s NOT mine! My poo doesn’t smell like THAT!” 

Then we remembered that my mother was babysitting a 4 year old boy who could be leaking something out of his diaper that afternoon. I mean, who else could it be!? Pristine already said it was not hers.

Hmmm, I almost got through Monday without writing a blog post. But then here I am writing about poo.

Photo credit

Yesterday the three of us (me, M and Pristine) went out for dinner. As we were approaching my (small) car in the parking area, we saw two women talking  and one was leaning on my car. She was very carefree, chatting with another woman who also leaned on another car parked next to mine.

M would be driving that time and as we got near to the two women, he asked the one leaning on my car, “Is this your car?” in a stern manner.

The lady jerked and quickly walked away, along with her friend. They were throwing dagger looks at me as they left. I was embarrased at how rude my husband was. Would it hurt to just plainly, simply say, “Excuse me” instead of asking a ridiculous question like, “Is this your car?”

Of course, the lady took it very personally and thought we were looking down at her, like we are toughies because we have a car and she doesn’t. M started the “it’s not like that in Japan” and “if it isn’t yours don’t touch it” converstation but I was only half listening. Sometimes, he has no provisions to strangers. I don’t know about you but for me, what he said was just wasn’t nice to hear at all, especially we had a young child with us.

It’s not like the woman leaning my car was 250 kilos heavy. And it’s not like my car is a 24K gold painted Ferrari! But apparently, after I did a google search, some people take it seriously when other people lean or touch their cars. I am odd because I care less.

Tell me, what would you do if you caught someone leaning on your car? What would you say to them?