i will stop feeling sorry for myself i will stop hoping for the impossible i do not need a man to be happy i am someone's prize catch i love my friends i will never let anyone use me again i will not blame my hormones i will value each day of my life i am happy being who i am i will start thinking about myself for a change

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Sometimes I forget how different my childhood was from the kids growing up today. For today's example, let's talk about the mobile phone. I think I first saw one when my dad bought his Nokia way back in 1992 - when GSM phones started popping up around here. The thing was the size of a brick and had a talk time of about 30 minutes before it would die. We didn't have SMSing because Etisalat didn't have it back then. I actually got my hands on a mobile phone when I was 19. And that too, it was my mum's, and I was only allowed to borrow it after a lengthy conversation as to why I needed to carry one to college. Mind you, I used to guard it like I was protecting fucking Hilary Duff. Then when I'd return home, mum would inspect the phone to make sure there were no scratches etc.

Now, it seems every single person from adult to child aged 5 has a mobile. The other day I was walking home and I saw these two kids below my building - both of them maybe no older than 6 years, texting away furiously on their phones. When I was their age, our best friend was the phone booth. I would carry one of the old Etisalat phone cards in my bag for emergency purposes - does anyone even remember those? They had a small hole punched at the top with the text AED 30, and the phone would punch holes when your credit reached AED 20, 10, etc. I don't even think they have those phones now - not even the coin operated ones! They used to be bright orange and have the smalled screen to show you how much credit you had left for your call, so you'd be standing there in the cramped booth trying to time your call so you wouldn't have to stick in any more coins.

Ah, the memories.

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Having recently attended Mark & Linda's wedding, I feel that it is my duty to put in a little shameless advertising for them. If any of you are getting married and need an ace photographer, then I highly recommend Manuel Meszarovits who is both a fantastic person and an excellent photographer. The above picture is just one of the many that he has done for Linda's wedding, and his website has countless other beautiful photographs. He will also be hopefully doing my portfolio the next time he swings into Dubai, so I will plug in my pics in due time. He will quite literally fly around the world for a photoshoot, and shows a tremendous passion for his work that I have rarely seen.

All I know is, he's going to attend a very gay wedding in Canada one day...

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Okay, now I try my best to avoid celebrity-related posts because let's face it - there ain't no bigger attention whore than me. BUT, I do have two things that need discussion this week.



Firstly, there are talks that none other than Ryan Seacrest will be broadcasting an American chart show on one of our local radio stations. Though I've got this straight from the horse's mouth, things are yet to be confirmed. Should be fun to hear what this guy sounds like on the radio.




Secondly, guess who's been snapped frolicking in Speedos again? None other than Mr Martin himself..the only problem with this picture is that I'm not under him ;-)


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So I recently read that Jennifer Hudson was supposed to sing at a Starbucks opening or something, but the manager bailed out on her because of her retarded demands. At first I thought she demanded a lot of money for it, but it turns out she was just being a diva. She demanded five cars, a mobile phone, personal security at all times, humidifiers, and get this - a large supply of chicken wings. Fucking chicken wings? And a humidifier? Apparently when you win an Oscar, you become so uptight because they ram the thing up your ass at the awards ceremony. What's wrong with this chick? Doesn't she remember when she was an absolute zero contestant on Idol? She may have slipped through that contest and straight into the limelight, but with that kind of attitude she isn't going to go ANYWHERE.

I can just hear the Starbucks manager now...Number 43...short double-fat moca diva...number 43...anyone?

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