Why all the hate?

Every time there is an article or blog post about airline travel there are a few topics that always come up.  People seem to get really worked up about these topics, so I thought I'd write down a few of my thoughts on the subjects.

"People don't dress up for travel anymore.  Our society is crumbling because people refuse to put on real pants for a flight!"

I am one of those people who doesn't put on real pants for a flight.  There are a couple of reasons I dress in yoga pants and a loose (sometimes sleeveless) shirt. 
1.  No metal
I have never had to go through a metal detector twice or been singled out for secondary screening.  I just don't have anything on my body that sets off any alarms.  Literally, the only metal on my body when I walk through there is the hook and eye on my brassiere, and only because I am not going to wear a sports bra when I don't have to. 

2.  It's no longer the 1960s
Flying is terrible.  I mean, it's amazing that one can travel so far in such a short period of time and is a pretty amazing scientific feat.   But it's also terrible: small spaces, weird smells, it's always the wrong temperature, and everyone is annoyed they had to take off their shoes or wait for the people who are trying to haul everything as a carry-on to save time or money.

Flying is also really hard on my body and can cause me severe pain (I'll address this further in a moment) so I need to be wearing something that I can constantly adjust my position, especially on long international flights.

So to those people who think I ought to be "properly" dressed up for a flight: forget it.  You're out-numbered.  Now get back in line and quit your bitchin'. 

The good ole days, amirite?

"Only terrible people recline their seats! If you recline your seat in front of me, I will spend the rest of the flight with my knees pressed against your back so we both won't be comfortable!"

I have encountered this comment on the internet and the behavior in real life.  It's annoying.  I know, having a seat reclined in front of you isn't great, but seriously, getting worked up about it is pointless.  You don't get to decide if those extra inches of recline make me more comfortable or not, and comfort on a flight is, in my opinion, more important than the person behind me having the optimum viewing position for their laptop or be able to pull the bag out from under their seat 20 times an hour.  So, when I get on my flight back to the States in a couple weeks, I'm going to recline that seat all the way back after dinner is served, and keep it that way until breakfast is served.  And nothing is going to stop me, except a broken seat.  See, I have tailbone problems. 

A literal pain in the ass

Sitting on that plane seat is torture for me.  I will get up and walk around, I will do stretches in the bulkhead, I will walk up and down the aisles for as long as possible, but I will still be in so much pain when I get off that flight I might be crying.  It's awful, and I try to minimize it by piling pillows in the crook of the seat and putting my feet up on my under the seat luggage.  So, to all the people out  there who think people who recline their seats are douchebags, terrible, jerks, etc., and deserve a knee in the back, remember: everyone is different, you suck, and if you hate it so much, perhaps you should ask the person in front of you not to recline instead of being passive-aggressive and ruining the flight for both of us.  A young woman kneed me in the back for a few hours on a 10 hour flight once, and then she had to readjust her position or something, and she stopped.  I believe she realized she was hurting herself more than anyone.  Not me, I can use the extra lumbar support.  Thanks angry person!

"I don't fly at all anymore unless I have to because of the TSA!"

I do kind of agree with this, in theory.  Domestic American air-travel is pretty bad and the extra security just makes it worse.  The TSA treats you like an animal, the airline considers people living cargo, and OH HELL THE FLIGHT FROM CHICAGO TO PHOENIX IS GOING TO BE TERRIBLE!

Maybe I should hitchhike

Sorry for the outburst, but four hours on a flight with no food, old seats, no movie, and last time they didn't even have a drink service because the toilet in cattle class was broken and they wanted to keep the intrusions into the first class cabin to a minimum.

The security theater provided by the TSA needs to stop, yes.  It's a waste of resources and doesn't work.  But no politician is going to commit career suicide by saying so at this point in time.  Maybe in 50 years or so, we can think about letting people bring bottled water through security again.  But until then, boycotting air travel isn't going to change anything, so I'm going to keep flying, mostly because it saves time, although driving can be a nice adventure. You might even meet Kai, the hatchet-wielding hitchhiker!

Hot Pockets: It's for weight loss?!?

I almost never go to Starbucks. If I need to kill some time somewhere with free wifi there are better coffee shops here, with fancy French pastries and cream teas and such. But Starbucks is the coffee shop everywhere in the states, and when I'm with my sister we drive through there. They have a beverage with green coffee extract, which has enough caffeine in it for me to actually feel it. I might have a bit of a tolerance. Well, this Refreshers TM drink contains the aforementioned green coffee extract. I guess I'm a little out of the loop, because I had no idea that green coffee extract is touted as a weight loss miracle (thanks, Dr. Oz). It makes me like the Refresher TM less. Let me clarify that I like the lime flavor, not the berry hibiscus. Hibiscus are decorative and do not taste good.

Anyway, I thought calling caffeine a weight loss miracle was old school and went out of style when Dexatrim did. I guess this is just evidence that there are no new ways to diet, humans just keep recycling the same ones over and over. Low-carb dieting was first introduced in the 1800s and keeps getting repackaged and resold. So please, just use your secondhand version of Atkins if you must and stop handing forkfuls of cash to new "experts". All their good recipes are online anyway.

Hot Pockets: The Final Countdown

OK, now that everyone has hair-band Europe's greatest (only) song stuck in your head, it's time to reveal that this post is about how I am acting in my last few weeks in Abu Dhabi. Dan and I will be back in our little house in Phoenix on March 16, just in time for St. Patrick's Day and the tail end of Cadbury Creme Egg season. In these last few weeks, Dan and are melancholy about all the things we've come to know and love...

Nah, we have effectively clocked out of the real world and are already living in Phoenix through the power of the Internet. Dan has ordered a car, we have phones and carriers picked out, and I know exactly what I'm going to buy my first trip to the grocery store (seeded rye bread and sliced ham).

Contrast that to my purchases today. Instead of making a list and buying practical things we could eat, I bought pretty much whatever sounded good and that won't be available in the States. Thus, in no particular order:
Coke (with real sugar)
Flavoured water "A hint of mint and lemon" (also with real sugar)
A hollow chocolate egg with two Cadbury Creme Eggs inside, imported from the UK)
Baked cheese crackers from Australia
Berries and Cherries Muesli
Cherry Passion Fruit Tic Tacs
Fresh sliced pineapple (no extra charge for the slicing)
Frubes (Yogurt tubes with Otter pop-tyle characters)

Not Pictured: Minced beef, ground while I watched

I also bought a sari, because I'd been thinking about for a while so I figured what the hell, and went to the cheap department store and bought one. I could have taken it home today, but the blouse has to be custom-made to fit my sizable chest. 

"Those girls couldn't drown."

It will be done next Wednesday (Inshallah). I did not pay in advance.

Have I started packing?  Nah, I've still got time.

Make-up is not for me

I've never been a make-up wearer.  Even when I was a teenager and all the other teeny-boppers were begging their mothers to let them wear just a little lipstick, I was still trying to look and feel less like a dork (I had just recently started wearing contact lenses and was no longer four-eyes).  I learned to wear make-up on stage, when I was playing a character, and to this day, I still feel the same way when I have make-up on. 

Even though I'm not sure I look any different here.

I used to say that if you never start wearing make-up, no one will expect you to, and that bit of wisdom (which probably sprang more from teenage laziness than anything) has served me well over the years.  I (almost) never wear make-up.  I have a fondness for tinted chopsticks, and wore Dr. Pepper flavored/colored Lip Smacker for years.  I still will when I can get my hands on it.  For my 30th birthday, my aunt bought me, at my request, some Clinique Almost-Lipstick in "Universally Flattering Black Honey." I love it, but like anything I put on my lips, I need to reapply frequently, and so you can really only tell I'm wearing it for the first ten minutes after I've put it on. 

Plus, the fancy stuff doesn't fit in my pocket very well.

That doesn't mean I don't like make-up.  I do.  In fact, I am fascinated by it.  I own a Bare Minerals starter kit, in the wrong shade because I over-estimated the level of the tan on my face, of which I used all the colorless Mineral Veil and some of the mascara.  I have one of those eye make-up sets that are supposed to enhance your eye color.  I have even in recent months tried wear eyeliner and eyeshadow, but rather than make me feel more myself as some people say, it makes me feel less myself and more self-conscious.  Perhaps that's left over from my days wearing make-up in the theater.  Pancake make-up is not attractive on anyone in normal lighting.  I never wear blush because I have just the perfect amount of rosacea, right on my plump cheek bones, which is accentuated when I am excited, have a migraine, or have had a drink or two.  I did pay a stylist a ridiculous amount of money to make me up for my wedding day.  The effect was wonderful, but even the professional application of cosmetics didn't make me look as good in the photos as my ridiculously photogenic husband.

He always looks good in photos.  It's sickening.

My sister says she's jealous of the way I can look so natural.  I am jealous of her ability to pull off the smokey eye, bright colors of eyeliner, and style her hair.  It's an art in which I have no talent, and she does. I can french braid my own hair, but so can just about any woman with long hair.  It's very convenient, and makes me look like I put a smidgen of effort into my look.  I've also been experimenting with nail art, with various degrees of success.  It's the in thing you know.

Box O' Nail Polish

So, in conclusion, make-up is pretty awesome (and have you read some of the ingenious things they can do with color matching and chameleon shades, and OMG is there any way to remove all water-proof mascara? That stuff is industrial).  I own some, but don't use it, and when I do, I'm probably not doing it right.  And that's OK.  A little powder (or mattefying moisturizer) to keep the shine down, a little cola-flavored lip balm (no gloss for me, that stuff is sticky), and I'm good to go.  But even though I've given up on full-face make-up, I'm on to new and greater adventures in fashion.

Quirky Gothic TM

Hot Pockets: You can't always get what you want

Last night I was craving a very distinct food, which I could not immediately identify. It was sweet, soft, a pastry perhaps. Definitely glazed, but not a doughnut. A touch of lemon maybe? I thought about it and thought about it, and yet, it didn't come to me. I'd been thinking about making gingerbread cookies, could it be that, maybe with cream cheese icing? Thinking about cream cheese icing led me to carrot cake. I had been spending time with a friend I introduced to carrot cake who is now hooked. I started planning to make a carrot cake, making a mental shopping list, wondering what recipe to use, but it still wasn't exactly what I wanted. It wasn't until I was drifting off to sleep that it struck me: what I had been craving wasn't anything I could make or buy here. It was a pre packaged cinnamon roll. That particular combination of preservatives, cold smooshy cake, and hard glaze, possibly with some raisins thrown in. Well, that is not something I'll be getting here. Heaven forbid you have a craving for Cool Ranch Doritos or Hershey Kisses (unless you feel like driving to Dubai). An Entemman's cinnamon roll isn't happening. So I made a rum cake. That will have to do for now.

Introducing Hot Pockets: Calendar Edition

Since I got this iPad I've rarely sat down to my computer for any serious writing (or at least as serious as my writing ever gets). Well, that means not as many blog posts. To remedy that, I'm going to start writing Hot Pockets. Just like the frozen food, Hot Pockets will be small and u satisfying, but with the upside of always being one in the freezer, aka, in my brain (have I mentioned I keep my apartment freezing?). The length of such posts will be constrained by how long I can type on my iPad. Please address any information on typos to Apple's Autocorrect department.

To the topic!

I like to have a paper, hang it on the wall calendar. Although they are usually available for free (if all else fails there's the Horses of Wells Fargo calendar my mother can always get from work), I like to purchase the most ridiculous calendar possible. Thus I can be entertained when writing down the minutiae I put on a calendar: doctor's appointments, when I put in new contact lenses, what day I last took a migraine pill.

Two years ago it was a Geek Goddess calendar; pinup girls with nerdy themes like steampunk and video games. It had the added bonus of supporting a small group of young artists. Despite being pleased with the purchase, I didn't buy the calendar again because the young artists in question started plastering my Facebook page with prayer requests and admonitions not to drink tap water because of the fluoride. Young artists I support. Young anti-science evangelicals, no.

Last year was a bust: Retro Ad posters. All because I was too embarrassed to buy the bikini babes riding dragons calendar when shopping with my mother-in-law. I won't make that mistake again.

I thought nothing would ever surpass the sheer ridiculousness of Painted Cats 2003, but this year's calendar may have done it. Without further ado, I am proud to present this year's calendar....Dioramas made of Marshmallow candy!

Holiday Re-Cap

I know, I know, it's the second week of January, everyone is back at work, and everyone is tired of hearing about the holidays.  Well, too bad.  This is a holiday post.

Deal with it

Although I've said many times there is no Christmas in Abu Dhabi, that's not true.  Not at all.  Christmas is so ubiquitous here, you can't go to a shopping mall without seeing a tree and a holiday display.  Santa Claus and Mrs. Santarina visited my little mall (a slight cultural difference there).  There were penguins in parachutes and an elven village in what I would consider one of more "local" malls.  Everyone likes Christmas.  It's by no means a national holiday (after all, Islam may recognize Jesus as a wise man, but Mohammad never said to celebrate his birthday), but it's still everywhere.  That's because Christmas isn't really about Christ anymore.  Instead it's a celebration of family, gift-giving, and the victory of the consumer culture.  That's why there's Christmas here in Abu Dhabi, because people love a reason to shop.  I have no real proof of it, but I would suspect that there's a December celebration involving trees and presents in Saudi Arabia too. 

We had a quiet and enjoyable Christmas with friends, and Dan went back to work the next day.  I earnestly tried to drink myself into the migraine I could feel coming on (after all, if no one else was going to drink that chianti, I had to), but was unsuccessful at that time.


New Year's Eve was a different story.  It was not quiet at all.  We went to a black light party on top of the Aloft Hotel next to the Abu Dhabi National Exhibition Centre (ADNEC).  We booked a room so we could enjoy the evening and then not have to fight traffic or search for a cab. 

Honestly, I did not expect to have as good a time as I did.  Usually when Dan and I go to clubs by ourselves we end up dancing for a bit, then sitting around and staring at each other for a couple of hours.  This was different.  The club has an indoor dance floor and an outdoor lounge area.

With a splendid view of the ADNEC building

That, along with the free-flowing drinks included with admission contributed to a wonderful evening.  So wonderful, that Dan was still intoxicated when it was time to check-out the next morning. 

And that never happens.  I'm the drinker in this family Dan!

And that migraine I tried to drink myself into on Christmas?  It showed up on New Year's Day.  But it was still one of the best evenings Dan and I have had together in years.  Thanks, Relax@12 for having an awesome deal.  There were no fireworks, but we got quite a bit of that at Disneyworld, and I promised Dan if we're still stuck here next year, we'll go to see the show in Dubai at the Burj Khalifa. 

Or we could just watch them on TV...

I'll deal with the crowds, but he's not allowed to lose me; that's a standard rule when we go anywhere, ever.  Don't lose me, and if I wander off, look for the nearest shiny thing.  Here in Abu Dhabi, it's probably a Swarovski crystal display.  Once, it was this:

But can you really blame me?