blurb

The beauty about living in a place like Bahrain is that when you wake up one morning, without having washed your face the night before, with a hankering for Froot Loops only to find there is no milk in the fridge, you can easily call the little corner shop next door, quote your grandfather's name and have them deliver 200ml of milk for about 100 fils. And it will be at your doorstep within about 45 seconds of you hanging up.

So as I sit here shovelling Froot Loops in my mouth, my heart swelling with temporary infatuation with this country, I try to come up with something philosophical and profound to reflect how I feel. But all I do is stare in the distance, vacantly, chewing Froot Loops, with smudged eyeliner on my face, wearing my brother's old t-shirt.

I tell Adonis about the lifestyle here and he takes to it like a fish to water. Luxury becomes him. He wears it well and is the kind of man who likes, loves, being spoilt. I lure him here with promises of maids and chauffeurs and grandma's cooking delivered to our house every day and swimming pools and heat.

But for now I head on back to Londinium to see him. This whole trip was a grand success. My family loves Adonis and he loves them back. I love everyone in return. Love is all around me. My heart overflows.

As for the future, well who the fuck knows? It could be here, there, in between or all the way out. As long as I have Adonis by my side, I'm set for life.

Good things

I hate neglecting this blog. I hate feeling that I could write but don't due to general laziness. I'm better than that but I suppose that doesn't show.

Here are some good things.

Adonis is coming to Bahrain this Saturday. The family is all over the place, planning things, thinking of what to feed him, re-upholstering sofas, cleaning curtains (because that's what Adonis is going to be judging when he gets here obviously - the cleanliness of the curtains), looking for things in common between us (of the Persian variety) and Greek-Australians (quite a few things apparently, but mainly me). I am so excited. I am so bubbling over with gratitude for my lovely family's wholehearted acceptance. I am so touched.

One of my best friends got the break she deserves and has been looking for and it went as smoothly as can be. I am delighted for her and cannot wait for her to get started with this new kickass life she'll be leading. MSB, kisses in your direction.

I am pretty much training contract-less but feel somewhat liberated. I reckon I deserve a bit of fun. I'm sure the job will come along somehow soonish (and if it doesn't then Adonis will have to return this beautiful Tiffany diamond horseshoe charm I'm wearing around my neck because I was promised it was lucky). Now though, I be focusing on the man who is changing my life.

I am knitting. I am knitting lots. I knit my brother a beautiful scarf and now I'm knitting Andonis a ribbed (for her pleasure) scarf. Loving it.

There's more but I must run.

dot

Crapples. I am so tired and just emotionally drained from the crap I have been putting myself through. For those in the know, I failed a module and now feel like the nice little world I've built in my head has come crashing down. My future job hangs in the balance and I'm just waiting for the powers that be to come back to me and tell me what to do. I was a wreck for a while, eating very little and isolating myself from the well-meaning folk who'd call to congratulate or go out and par-tay. Instead I chose to stay at home with the only person I can be with in times of a crisis, the only person in the vicinity who cries if I cry and bleeds if I bleed, and watch reruns of Sex and the City.

But today feels a little different. I started studying for my re-sits and, as I cram a fistful of Party Rings in my mouth and absorb the sugar rush, I don't feel as depressed about it as I should.

Things between Adonis and I have started to become a little more serious. A few more parties are involved, namely my family. Scary people are on board and things that used to seem so far-fetched are now within reach. Adonis will be coming to Bahrain and I couldn't be happier about my personal life, my lovely little relationship. All this is making me very happy.

But fuck, where am I heading? I am currently without a long-term job. I am not on my way to train as a lawyer and this is scaring the shit out of me. Relocation may be on the cards or it may not, I don't know. I don't know, I don't know. I don't know a thing and I am terrified. But at least throughout it all, Adonis will be there to hold my hand.

Before I leave this badly-written entry, I would like to post a lovely little picture of my current favourite drink. This bad boy is called the Pornstar Martini and it's made with passion fruit and served, weirdly, with a shot of champagne. Here we is:


Mon dieu, 'tis good.

I'm so full of the proverbial

I am a lawyer by training. I am a "writer" by profession. I wake up mornings and drink coffee because it's what's done by normal people. I cut my hair short to try and get myself into this prevailing corporate mentality and so I can fit in with the business-like world of 8.30 am on the Tube. I wear shades of grey so I can blend into the London haze. I skip lunch and have a cheese croissant instead on my way home. I don't smoke anymore because it's frowned upon in my office. I meet clients and smile and discuss their needs, wants and desires whilst maintaining a professional distance. I am pleasant and charming with my superiors. I had a fellow writer 'helpfully remind' me that I need to be polite with the clients (this condescending asshole needed a slap from me). I take work home with me because I have grown-up things like deadlines to meet. I am supposed to develop a writing 'style'. The Royal Courts of Justice are supposed to become a regular haunt.

Yet why do I feel like such a fucking sham when I put a suit on?

I cannot wait to churn out a ludicrous book which will make me shitloads and allow me to wander in whatever my heart desires.

----

At the moment my heart is desiring a Herve Leger bodycon dress which I tried on a whim in Harrods then put right back on the rack after looking at the price tag and shedding a few tears. My heart is also desiring sky-high nude Louboutins which would go amazingly well with that dress. Finally, my heart is desiring something, anything anything anything, from Lanvin.

Waitin'

Waiting waiting waiting in a dimmed room and with a painful head and a tummy wound up tight like a ball of yarn. Ceiling oh Ceiling bring him back safe for me.

***

Yay to the weekend and the impromptu trip to Croydon for a chance at happiness. Yay to spending three hours with a caseworker, feigning politeness, interest, charm. I pray the caseworker is a man.

***

When I close my eyes I see bungalows in the sand and cliche clear water. When I close my eyes I am sipping an umbrella drink, swinging in a hammock and living in a postcard. When I close my eyes I can smell the corn with cheese on top.

***

Today I answered questions in class as a part of a "panel of lawyers". Three Alan Sugars were sitting in front of me and all I could see was the black frame of my obligatory-only-in-class glasses. Specs just make you feel dorkier but I now dress extra-sexy to counteract the geek effect.

***

ADONIS! Where are you eff eff ess. I want to smell you please. I want to curl up in the foetal position and smell you.

***

Today I saw John - Standing outside my window, smoking his cigar, ordering his yuppie drinks, trying to take me to sexy clubs, with his braces, wearing pin-striped trousers, texting me things like, "Credit crunch? What credit crunch?", holding up a fan of £50 notes, making a face - and he wanted to go out.

"We're thinking of going out next week and listening to jazz while smoking cigars... Care to come along?"

"Whereabouts?"

"Soho probably."

"Will you order your Courvoisier?"

"Haha! Maybe."

"Can we go to KFC afterwards?"

He looked like I'd just slapped him. "I'd never take you to KFC. Ever."

"Meh. I'll let you know."

How depressing would it be to live your life shielded from the joys of KFC, especially when drunk or hungover?

***

Come on sunshine, come home to your girl. I'm waiting for you. Come on baby, I'll love you and kiss you and caress you til you purr contentedly. Come on sweetheart. Come home to me.

I'm the King

So a serious lack of updates is only due to my general topsy-turviness. I would like to write something but I cannot be bothered at the moment. Therefore, I shall write later.

Later x

What's the opposite of lucid?

I was going to start this blog off by apologising for my lack of posting but I changed my mind.

There is something so brazen about London's audacity in the wee hours. Early morning, the sun isn't even out yet, the cars are whizzing by, the buses are all operating, people are out, in the dark, jogging, going to work, doing god knows what. London flips the bird to the world and doesn't give a shit about things that normal people need to survive, like sunlight and warmth. London does its own thang.

There is something so brazen and audacious about me here. I am very unkempt yet have no hesitation in going out to the shops to buy a pack of Marlboro Lights (20s) and smoking them in the confines of my minuscule room. Back home, I would have to think long and hard before trekking out in an oversized Qantas t-shirt, frayed jeans and a pair of Uggs. Back home, my only excuse for this ensemble would be a visit to the hospital, if I personally were dying. Still, I feel better. I feel prettier here than I ever did in Bahrain. Wilder abandon, recklessness, stupidity, call it what you want. Here I am the mess that I really am. And the outside reflects the inside.

The papers in my room had a party last night. I only know this because I walked into my room and they were everywhere, littered about, lying on the floor, passed out, clearly hungover from last night's fiasco. I could swear there were a couple of empty bottles of vodka hidden under the bed but I can't be arsed to check. The litigation twins (civil and criminal) had a bit too much fun methinks and were getting it on with insolvency. Sluts.

I'm jazzed up on my old friends caffeine and nicotine. My filthy lifestyle of the past is back and you know what? In the wise words of Mr. McDonald: I'm lovin' it. No I don't fucking want to give up smoking, Red Bull, coffee, or salt 'n' vinegar Walkers. Yes I want to ingest crap that is bad for me and see how long I can sustain it. Jesus, I'm only 25. If I cannot abuse my insides now, when can I?

Today will be a long day of criminal litigation, a paper worth jack shit really but it has to be done. If I just barely pass this, all will be fine. Then I can concentrate on other things. Like making sure the rest of my life is in working order.

Here's the sunrise at 7.30 am. I'm off to shower and try and look presentable enough to face the outside world. Later lovelies.