Mothers on the Verge

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 20:21:00 +0000

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives.

The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)

Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Environment

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 15:43:00 +0000

Being an expat, a favorite topic of conversation is 'where I/you want to go next?' or 'When do you plan to go home?'

It's a good question. I'm not sure I want to stay in Dubai for ever, but I'm also not sure about how long I want to be here for or where else I would like to live.

For almost the first time ever, I have no fixed plans apart from keeping my eyes and mind open to interesting opportunities.

And as to going 'home', I have no idea where that is. Constantly moving around as a child left me with the feeling that 'home' is wherever I am right now, so in effect 'home' could be anywhere. The longest I've ever lived in one fixed place was 18 years in London, on and off, but that doesn't feel like 'home' either - I love going back to see family and friends, and it's a great place to shop, but that's about it.

I have a great love for California, which is where my extended family is from (and where most of them still live), but while a good-sized portion of my heart resides there California has only been a temporary resting-place for me. I used to think that I would end up there, somewhere along the coast near San Francisco, but now I'm not so sure.

So, where WILL I end up? I have no idea. My only criteria is that it will be close to water (being land-locked makes me feel slightly uncomfortable) with a warm and sunny climate. Good food, friendly people and an interesting history would be a bonus.

Apart from all that, it could be almost anywhere - South America, South-East Asia, the Pacific Islands, Southern Europe... ?

I do have an image in my mind of the house I will build one day; a minimalist white block with a wall of glass on one side looking out over the sea or the ocean; inside a flow of open space and double-height ceilings, polished concrete floors, lots of natural wood and a big wrap-around deck with loungers and a hammock.

It's good to have dreams but it's also nice not to be overly fixated on the details. Here's to a free-flowing future...

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 09:27:00 +0000

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.

In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.

It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys.

Personally, I think all that status-related stuff is a crock and, while it's fun to drive a cool car and I very much like being surrounded by beautiful things, it's not the essence of life. If all the things I own vanished overnight, I'd survive... so long as I still have the people I love most in my life.

As usual, I digress... anyway...

The conversation went on to discuss what makes a person 'real', the qualities we admire in the people we like most, and what it is that makes someone fully 'human'.

This made me think about one of my favorite therapy textbooks, which I've been re-reading this week; John Powell's 'Why Am I Afraid To Tell You Who I Am? Insights into Personal Growth', which was first published in the 1960's. For me, the entire book makes absolute sense and is well worth a read - it's a must-read for anyone interested in the process of becoming 'fully human' through the adoption of self-knowledge, self-acceptance and authenticity.

Here's a few teaser quotes:

"We have been somehow "programmed" not to accept certain emotions as part of us. We are ashamed of them... We might reason that reporting then would disturb a peaceful relationship or evoke an emotionally stormy reaction from the other. But all of our reasons are essentially fraudulent, and our silence can produce only fraudulent relationships. Anyone who builds a relationship on less than openness and honesty is building on sand."

"In fully human people, there is a balance of the senses, emotions, intellect and will. The emotions have to be integrated. Though it is necessary to "report" our emotions, it is not at all necessary that we "act on" them. We must never allow our emotions to control our decisions."

"Most of us feel that others will not tolerate such emotional honesty in communication. We would rather defend our dishonesty on the grounds that it might hurt others. Having rationalized our phoniness into nobility, we settle for superficial relationships."

"To reveal myself openly and honestly takes the rarest kind of courage."

Please feel free to comment, anyone who can relate to this and/ or has a strong (and honest!) opinion.

School trip!

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 10:14:00 +0000

I had a fantastic day yesterday, having managed to wrangle a place for myself on the Small(er) One's school trip - a full day of adventure out in the desert - in the guise of a responsible parent helper.

The schedule included a load of educational stuff - learning how to filter water, looking for 'dinosaur tracks', nature walks etc - but, if I'm to be entirely honest, the big draw for me was the chance to fling myself down huge sand dunes as fast as possible... to try sand boarding, in other words.

I've tried snow boarding before and I'm truly rubbish - the combination of freezing cold and permanently sliding down icy slopes on my backside (thank God for padded salopettes) didn't really do much for me. But sand? That seemed a lot more palatable.

And it was. The most fun I've had for quite a while. Sand is soft, so the bum bruising is much more tolerable. Plus it was kiddy-pitched, so not too scarily high and with the option of sitting on the board. And as is usual for Dubai, the sun was shining. Happiness all round.

The problem is that I can rarely resist a challenge, so when standing was suggested I had a shot at it... and was immediately humbled by a prompt and spectacular face-plant. Which thoroughly serves me right for trying to show off. The fact that my lack of sporting prowess made the kids laugh their socks off almost made the experience of having sand up both nostrils worthwhile.

Today, I have tender hamstrings (repeatedly dragging a board up a near vertical sand dune is a very effective workout), a few bruises and sand nestling in odd places (despite showering, it's tenacious stuff) but I'm still feeling the buzz.

It's entirely possible I may have found myself a new and exciting hobby... See you in the desert!

Global Male Stereotypes: The Hopeless Romantic

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 18:25:00 +0000

He seems perfect. A total gentleman, he'll stand up when you enter the room, his eyes aglow with admiration at the sight of your captivating beauty. You'll be showered with compliments and sweet love-notes chockablock with sweet-nothings.

The Hopeless Romantic calls when he says he will and texts just to say he's thinking about you - no gesture is too large or small and he will do anything to please. Not for him are the 'keep-em-keen' games employed by most of the male population; the HR wears his heart on his sleeve and he's happy to show it off to the world.

In essence, the Hopeless Romantic will behave like the perfect boyfriend, as described in all the women's magazines.

As in all things, if something seems too good to be true then it probably is. And in this case the Hopeless Romantic has one very fatal flaw: so desperate is the HR in his search for love, he falls head-over-heels at the drop of a hat... and out of it just as quickly.

As soon as a jolt of reality intrudes, the romantic bubble bursts and the Hopeless Romantic promptly heads for the hills. See that dust trail on the far horizon? Yep, that's your ideal boyfriend doing his very best Roadrunner impression as soon as the initial infatuation starts to subside.

What's a girl to do? Mark it down to experience, call your girlfriends for a heart-to-heart, accept your misfortune at being dragged into an illusion and sign the offending fool up for an annual subscription to 'Psychologies' magazine.

Don't pine or waste your time weeping - this Hopeless Romantic is a hopeless case. Simply dust off your best dancing shoes, laugh at your own gullibility and get out there to find a consort more worthy of your many charms.

Take heart though, for as they say: 'There's a love to be found in every town', 'Plenty more fish in the sea' and 'You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince...'

Farewell to 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 23:03:00 +0000

The themes for 2012?

Authenticity... courage... self-respect...an open heart... an open mind... empathy... forgiveness.

Happy New Year to you all.

A thought

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 09:27:00 +0000

Perhaps sometimes a gift can be delivered in the guise of a tragedy. It's just a matter of perception, after all.

I suspect that the talent lies in looking beyond the surface to what lies beneath and beyond. And, of course, being able to make sense of it all and going on to apply that knowledge to building a productive way forward.

Here's hoping.

The Dubai Review: Mahiki Dubai

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 13:30:00 +0000

An outpost of the legendary London nightclub Mahiki opened in Dubai last week. I was meant to show up to the opening but, for one reason or another, I failed to make it. I was also invited to go the next night but, again, I didn't quite manage it. Rubbish, eh?

Last night, finally, I actually made it through the door of Mahiki Dubai accompanied by a selection of fine girlfriends for the new 'Pin Up Tuesday' night. And I was really, really glad that I made the effort.

Quite simply, Mahiki Dubai is sheer, unadulterated FUN. Here's the recipe:

- Take one part amusing decor, lots of seating space and a proper dance floor, all in the very convenient location of Jumeirah Beach Hotel
- Stir in an eclectic mix of highly danceable tunes from 1950's to present day (I swear the DJs even played the New Zealand Haka at one point)
- Shake it all up with a super-friendly up-for-it unpretentious mixed crowd
- Add a large troupe of affable and efficient barmen and two separate bars; what's not to love about not having to wait ages to be served?
- Mix in a bit of spice in the form of Mahiki's gorgeous girl dancers; especially entertaining when they accompany every order of the famous 'Treasure Chest' cocktail (a favorite of the younger UK Royals, or so rumour has it)
- Top it all off with a huge cocktail menu, includes 'driver's drinks' for those who choose not to over-indulge
- Garnish with a very generous offer of free cocktails for ladies... every Tuesday evening until midnight

The result is Dubai's newest and most essential nightlife hot-spot. Personally, I have a feeling I'm going to become a regular.

Check it out.

Bah humbug

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 12:27:00 +0000

This has certainly been one of my more difficult Christmas periods. A lot of reflection, feelings of deep sadness, grieving for what I had but is no more, and fear about what is yet to come.

And it goes without saying that I acutely missed my two older children, who are with Alpha and his extended family on a skiing trip in France.

But, along with the sadness, it's also been a time to count the blessings I have. The company of a beautiful baby girl who has kept me going over the past few days with her infectious enthusiasm for life. My two older girls, who I can't wait to hug when they return on Friday morning. An almost-ex-husband who still cares and wants the best for our family, in whatever unconventional form that will take. My parents and extended family who I know are there for me even though they are many miles away in physical terms. And a whole host of genuine and truly wonderful friends who know me well enough to be aware that sometimes, when I'm struggling, a kind word or two and a heartfelt hug is enough.

So, it's not all that bad. Even when the emotional roller coaster cranks up for yet another clench-your-teeth ride, I just need to remind myself to close my eyes, hold my breath and that it will only be a matter of time before I can plant my feet on solid ground once more.

Anyone else had an unusual Christmas?

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 04:26:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 15:25:00 +0000

Merry Christmas to you all.

Wishing you all a good day, ideally in the company of loved ones and good friends. :-)

The Global Stereotypes Series: the Tortoise

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 06:14:00 +0000

The Tortoise is not one to ever willingly stick his neck out as he is overly fond of his hard shell and clings to it for protection at all costs. Painfully shy and somewhat reclusive following a distressing encounter with an especially vicious bird of prey in his younger days, the Tortoise will never willingly reveal his soft underbelly to anyone.

Even when his lumberingly slow transit through life causes him to blindly bump into an especially tasty morsel, the Tortoise is far more likely to retreat than advance. And as for anything unusual or different... however tempting it may be, the Tortoise is still loathe to stick his neck out. "Better the devil you know," he mutters to himself as he snaps his armour into place and heads for the comforting familiarity of his favorite herbaceous border.

What to do if you unwittingly fall in love with a Tortoise? Familiarity through repeated exposure and large amounts of kindness may eventually cause him to drop his guard - but don't count on it. Gentle tickling may help (even a Tortoise has a sense of humour... if you can find it), administered with lots of loving patience - and be warned, you'll need spades of it if you want to win this slow and steady race.

You may find, though, that the hard work required to penetrate this particular shell is not commensurate with the final reward. Perhaps you should simply cut your losses and look for a less fearful and more dynamic object upon which to shower your affections instead...

An overrated virtue

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 05:42:00 +0000

Being strong all the time is all very well. It certainly allows a person to salvage a remnant of pride and avoids the danger of attracting pity from other people.

But, as they say, pride often comes before a fall. And what's so wrong with being on the receiving end of a bit of pity now and then? Especially if your life isn't exactly turning out as you'd once hoped for.

I guess I need to accept this new reality and stop focusing on the potential outcomes. After all, the only thing we really have is right now, however rubbish it may be.

Despite all my prior protests, while change may be necessary and something which has to be embraced if life is to move forward, it is frightening. Having absolutely no idea as to what the future might hold is terrifying. Being strong is exhausting. The truth is that I'm struggling and the absolute opposite of whatever brave should be.

This isn't a ploy for sympathy - it just is what it is but even an amicable split is damned hard; I suppose I should be grateful as it could be a lot worse. I know that I won't always feel this raw, but right now it really feels as if the emotional avalanche has outstayed it's welcome.

Anyone else out there gone through something similar? What's next in terms of the emotional hangover? How long does it take to become comfortable with such a major life change? Please share.

Global Male Stereotypes: the Trophy Hunter

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 17:37:00 +0000

Described in glowing terms by his mates as: "A bit of a rogue...", this wannabe lothario likes his women young, dumb and any flavor of desperate. And preferably in large quantities.

Usually terrified of getting old and becoming what might be termed as boring, the Trophy Hunter has spent his life artfully dodging any woman who might want something more serious than the occasional 'booty call'. He just knows that if he were to allow any of his conquests the privilege of calling themselves by the title of 'girlfriend', he'll wake up the very next morning hog-tied, neutered and with nothing to look forward to except a stroll around the perennials at the local garden centre. The very thought makes him come over a touch queasy.

When challenged about his questionable behaviour, the Trophy Hunter just shrugs his shoulders, shoots his opponent a charming smile and announces: "I have no defense. I just love women... all of them!"

Then, without a smudge of shame, he'll resume his stalk of the bar and practiced play of the 'numbers game' - after all, to go home alone would be unthinkable. If there's anything the Trophy Hunter dislikes more than the prospect of matrimony, it's failing in his quest to pillage and conquer.

How to avoid becoming yet another notch on the Trophy Hunter's bedpost? You could try to run (although this will probably make him all the more determined) or you could simply gaze into his eyes with a slightly deranged expression, whip out a well-thumbed bridal magazine from your handbag and tell him all about the wedding Hope Chest you've been working on ever since you were a teeny little girl...

Happiness is...

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 11:18:00 +0000

A handbag half-filled with sand after a lovely afternoon running around the beach with my three girls. :-)

Yes, BB decided to use my bag as a bucket... she's a very creative child...

Global Male Stereotypes: The Man Child

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 07:48:00 +0000

Since the popularity of the Dubai Stereotypes series - which seems to have run out of a bit of steam from my side recently - and in light of my current situation, I am starting a brand new series, Global Male Stereotypes.

At some point, although I must say I am in no hurry and in no way ready yet, I suppose I will have to start dating again. Not a very pleasant thought at the moment, frankly, but one I will have to face eventually. When that time comes I'll need to be armed with enough knowledge to be able to avoid the hounds, the rats, the emotionally stilted and all the other unsavory types on the prowl out there.

In the interests of research I've been talking to my single friends about their experiences, and to my married friends about their encounters prior to entering the matrimonial state. We came up with a long list, enough to keep me busy writing for quite a while.

Here is the first in the series: The Man-Child.

The Man Child is a more common phenomena than one might think. A boy dressed up in man's clothing, on first viewing you may consider him to be all grown up... but dig a little deeper and you'll discover the child that looms large within.

With a smile designed to melt the heart and an endearing vulnerable side, any woman with even a glimmer of a maternal streak will find the Man Child simply irresistible. But although he may be fun, sweet, cuddly and lovely to be around, Man Child has a darker side.

Prone to throwing his toys out of the pram when thwarted and possessing legendary sulking powers when not allowed to have his own way, Man Child has his mummy on such a high pedestal that no mortal female could ever measure up. And, like any child when presented with a gift, he usually finds the packaging far more interesting than what's on the inside.

Women be warned - however old he may be in physical years, Man Child is more interested in sampling the varied attractions of the playground of life than settling down. The good news is that one day he'll be forced to grow up... at which point he'll turn into the whole man he has the potential to be.

The big question, though, is - can you be bothered enough to wait around until that day comes?

Next week: The Tortoise

Life as I know it

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 18:42:00 +0000

My post on bravery seemed to strike a chord with a few people; I hope it helped some of you make a bit of sense of whatever difficult life situations you may be undergoing. Sometimes it's simply nice to know that you're not alone.

Carrying on in this vein, it is probably time for me to be more open about what's going on in my life. I have alluded to my situation but not felt comfortable enough to write the actual words on this blog prior to now.

Alpha and I split up some months back and we are now living apart on a permanent basis. Our main concern is that the kids get through as unscathed as possible - he and I are old enough to look after ourselves, to a certain extent - and so we have committed to friendship, and promised to stay rational, kind and adult in our interactions throughout the whole painful process. So far, we're doing pretty well... but even an amicable split is no picnic.

And yes, I did ask for Alpha's permission before I put this out there. As he said: "It is what it is. This is the new reality."

I'm not going to go into any detail - as I have said before on this blog, it's not entirely my story to tell.
What I can say though, is that when a relationship breaks down you can either opt to travel down the road of blame, vengeance, hatred and bitterness (spreading it to everyone else in your life and causing lasting damage) or you can try to let go gracefully with mutual respect and fondness... and hopefully emerge with a lasting friendship. The latter is perhaps a harder road initially but it certainly seems to be the best way for the long term.

Marriage is a veritable minefield. You go into it with blind faith and a lot of hope - some emerge intact, others don't make it. I guess that's just the luck of the draw.

So there you have it. This is my life right now. This is our life right now. This is the new reality.

Sometimes it sucks and sometimes it's ok. One thing I am sure of, at some point in the future I will look back and be thankful for the good years and the gift of our three daughters, and be able to make sense of it all. And we both hope, one day, to be able to look at our kids, smile and say: "We did a decent enough job, whatever the circumstances."

No blame. No anger. No pointless games. No regrets.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 16:22:00 +0000

Yesterday's post about bravery sparked some very heartfelt responses. I'm glad that I somehow managed to inspire other people to share their stories of loss.

The woman who posted the last comment about her experience of loss and unconditional love, please email me at mothersontheverge@gmail.com. Your words really touched me and I'd like to help if I can.

Bravery

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 05:58:00 +0000

I'm feeling a touch introspective this week, as you may have guessed from the numerous posts about my thoughts and feelings in general. A bit too much dwelling on the past rather than focusing on the present, despite all efforts to the contrary.

If you're finding it at all a bit boring, bear with me. I'll try to be more amusing next week, when hopefully my current somewhat somber mood will have passed.

I went to a dinner party last week which was attended by lots of interesting people all far more important, worthy and intelligent than I - what I know about politics would fit on the back of a postage stamp - but somehow we managed to find common ground and a few kind souls even laughed at my jokes, which I truly appreciated. I do love a good dinner party.

Anyway, I digress. The point of mentioning the party was that I met a rather wise woman there who I hope will become a future friend. One thing she said to me, which has had me thinking all week (all this bloody cogitating, perhaps I need a new hobby), was that always trying to be brave isn't necessarily a good thing.

I'm a bit of an expert at putting a brave face on things; fifteen years of working in public relations has equipped me with a fantastic poker face. Although I think of myself as a person who wears her heart on her sleeve this may well only be an internal perception, perhaps shared by a selection of very good friends. It is certainly true that I am a master of plastering on a bright smile before I venture out into the world, however I'm feeling inside.

While part of me thinks this is the only way to be - why inflict my negative emotions on innocent bystanders? - it does mean I tend to bottle things up when times are bad. Which, as my new hopefully-friend indicated, isn't the most emotionally healthy way to be.

So sod bravery. I feel like cr*p right now and therefore I will be having a one-woman pity party tonight, accompanied only by wine, chocolate, iTunes and a big box of tissues.

After all, is a spot of emotional self-indulgence now and then so very wrong? Full-time bravery can really wear a woman down.

A life less ordinary

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 06:43:00 +0000

Yesterday was a strange day.

It started with me coming off worse in a fight with a car park wall (as per yesterday's post) and ended with me hugging a dwarf (a real one, not just a very short person). This was not entirely as random as it may sound; I went to Cirque last night, a new-ish club at The Fairmont in Dubai. The music wasn't exactly to my taste and it was packed with wannabe Euro-trash types, but it certainly offered a departure from the usual nightlife spectacle.

In between these two incidents I made a new friend and rediscovered an old friend, one who I'd thought was gone for ever - a reconnection which has so far proved to be quite illuminating.

Life really can be very interesting.

In the words of those crinkly old rockers The Rolling Stones: "You can't always get what you want... you get what you need."

Overthinking

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 12:43:00 +0000

In one of my posts last week, Anonymous left a comment telling me to cogitate, then decide. This got me thinking about... well... thinking.

I've always been guilty of over-thinking. In fact, I used to pride myself on being a super-rational person who was able to put even the strongest emotions to one side in favour of what my brain told me was the 'right' thing to do. But in the past few months I've changed my mind.

In hindsight, over-thinking always got me into trouble, resulted in mistakes being made and made me shy away from good opportunities. My best decisions have always come from what you might term as being 'gut-feel', 'intuition', listening to that 'inner voice' or, perhaps, simply following my heart.

Over-thinking kills spontaneity and breeds fear. Instead of going out and embracing life, we overthinkers merely spend that time sitting and mulling over all the possible things that could happen if we take this course of action, and the other things that might happen if we take another course of action.

In truth, all we're doing is projecting into what is always going to be an uncertain future; a great big guess 'informed' by prejudice, learned 'truths', cultural norms and all the weighty baggage collected from past experiences (good and bad, undoubtedly skewed in some way).

The result of all this thinking is that we stand still, we become stuck - rooted with one foot in the past and one in the future, leaving a gaping void for the now.

I call it 'Thought Paralysis'.

I'm not urging you to throw caution to the winds and go out to do whatever you feel like doing at any given moment - that's a recipe for anarchy - but what I am saying is that sometimes, in some situations, it might be wise to cogitate on a higher level. What I mean by this is to examine your thoughts to identify their source; don't merely accept them as a given. If, upon closer examination, these thoughts appear to be born out of fear, anger, pride or remorse, then you should probably discard them and start again. The same goes for thoughts that start with the words "I should" or "Everybody else says/ does/ thinks..."

Then take a good, hard look at what your instincts are telling you, marry the two, and go for it.

With a bit of practice the doubt goes and you just know when you've come to the right decision - not because you 'should', or you're scared of what might happen if you choose a certain path, or because your mum will or won't disapprove. It's also wise to remember that sometimes the best outcomes mean choosing the more difficult, riskier and less immediately appealing route.

Yes. I realize I'm making it sound really simple. It's not. It's so much easier just to throw reason and logic at a problem rather than to identify what you truly feel about something (at core). But like most things in life, putting in the required effort usually yields the best rewards. Eventually, anyway.

Incredibly stupid moment #33,214

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 04:43:00 +0000

Getting into a pointless tussle with a multistory car park wall this morning (tight exit, what can I say?)

Result: Me nil, car park 1.

Over here in Dubai, if you have an accident - even if there is nobody else involved - you have to call the police out so they can look at the damage and give you a bit of paper to take to your insurer. Without the bit of paper you won't be able to get your car fixed. Hence the following exchange with a rather charming policeman:

Policeman (incredulous): "You did this on your own?"
Me (shamefaced): "Yes."
Policeman (puzzled): "No other car?"
Me (blushing): "No. Just me and the wall."
Policeman (shaking head in amazement): "Big damage!"
Me (squirming with embarrassment): "Yup."

Agghhh.

Embarrassing moment #2101

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 08:02:00 +0000

Somehow managing to attach my handbag to the back of my dress on the school run this morning. All frenzied attempts to detach myself failed miserably, resulting in my having to ask a (highly amused) stranger to assist me in my predicament.

At least I was wearing nice knickers. There's always an upside, I suppose.

*sigh*

Contemplation

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 07:52:00 +0000

Sometimes you don't need to know the answers. Sometimes a leap based on simple faith is all the certainty you need.

Codex

noreply@blogger.com (Kate B.) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 06:30:00 +0000

I am currently standing on a 26th floor balcony looking out over an awe-inspiring view of Dubai, stretching far across the Gulf. I feel tiny.

As I stand here drinking in the sight of the sea, the sky and the Burj Al Arab, I'm listening to one of the most poignant and bittersweetly beautiful songs I've ever heard, from an album I purchased back in May but had forgotten about until very recently. This song seems to encapsulate my life right now, which is fortuitous since I find myself completely unable to express it in my own words - or at least, do it any form of justice without resorting to cliches and half-baked truths.

Sometimes a song captures a moment, a feeling or an 'inner shift' more thoroughly than words ever can.

Listen.

(And just in case you're wondering after digesting the lyrics, my own personal leap is entirely metaphorical, not literal...) :-)