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Pirates
In France last year, I went to Sephora with Jul’s mom and sister, where I grudgingly bought make-up brushes, eyeshadow, mascara, and a whole bunch of other stuff that came in different colors and bottles. So I don’t know how to put make-up on. I never had female bonding make-up sessions with my sister Dr.…
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Dukhan Roadtrip
Scenes of a roadtrip Uglydoll keychain, suntanning Beach finds Currently listening to:Syd MattersA Whisper and a Sigh
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Hit it, Shuffle!
One thing I care very much about is my iPod. I love the damn icon of consumerism to bits. Music! Videos! Photos! Everywhere I go! I watched episodes of Happy Tree Friends on it while I standing in queue at the supermarket, and by the end of three episodes the group of 5 Indian men…
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Damn the Spam (Plus, Rain!)
Last week it rained for almost a week here in Qatar. Drivers, confused, got into accidents. (”Why is water falling from the sky? How strange. I shall drive faster than usual!”) Endless Doha construction didn’t help either (”I am a pothole and covered in water, therefore I am invisible to man and their cars, cars…
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Myth Takes
For several days now I’ve had the same headache; a terrible pounding behind my eyes. I always wake up with it, and though I want to start the day right — breakfast, work, shower, Jeopardy on tv — I find myself staying much longer in bed than usual, holding my head and willing the pain to stop.…
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Fake Taxis
Public transportation in Qatar is nonexistent. I exaggerate. Come to think of it… no, I don’t. There are taxis, those once-in-a-blue-moon Karwa taxis, and Mowasalat buses; but they are like apparitions, or desert mirages – gone before you realise they’re there. Poof! Before the Karwa taxis, the National taxis, or “orange” taxis, ruled the streets…
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Bloodletting
I can think of hundreds – no, thousands – of other ways I’d rather spend a day in Doha than going to the Medical Commission building for the medical exam, the most dreaded step toward getting a residence permit in Qatar. But since it’s compulsory, I found myself standing in front of the Medical Commission…
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Getting There
By the time my plane rolled down Doha International Airport’s runway, I had been asked 19 times if I were Filipino. 19 times, just at the Bahrain and Qatar airports. 19 times I answered Yes, and the follow-up questions were: 1: “Have you come straight from Manila?”, 2: “Ah, what’s your job in Doha?”, and…