The Pope is a Prick

There’s a lot I’d love to share but I’ve not got the energy or will most of the time to bother. I’m still recovering and taking some serious meds for an infection I got from postponing my surgery for so long. Most of the time, I’m suffering flu-like symptoms and there’s little I can do about it but force-feed myself – because food seems to lull the side effects. Luckily, I have only a few days left of these meds and my next doctor’s appointment is on the 27^th. I’m the epitome of ‘depressed’ just now and it’s due to combination of things. I am trying my hardest to avoid family and even friends. And it’s mostly because I don’t want to bring them down with me. Lucky, I’ve still got some great old friends who won’t allow me to hibernate away, who keep dragging me out of the house. (If you ever see this, I love you Rod and I’m happier than you’ll ever know that you’re doing as good as you are these days.)

Anyway, I’m still in Canada. It was mentioned in the comments below that I seem to have forgotten I’m Canadian (cute link Psamtani). I’d rather say I feel that I’ve grown out of Canada. All I want is to go home, and home is in Dubai for me now. As I’ve mentioned in a few emails it’s cold here and rainy now too. I only have open toed shoes. People are different and stingy. Someone asked me what I meant by that, and it’s simply that they care a lot more about money than we seem to back home. And I refuse to believe it’s because they have less of it than the average person back home, because I know people who have a hell of a lot more money than I do, but they still hate to spend on themselves or on others. I was downtown the other night and a chick walked up to me and asked if she could buy a cigarette. When I told her she needn’t give me money in exchange she almost had a heart attack; like it was the most generous thing on the planet. I find that a lot here; they way people react to something so common back home.

Most people here haven’t got a clue about the Middle East. I can listen to Bush’s propaganda all day long on the news, but like the rest of the population here I can’t be bothered to actually turn into whatever the hell he’s saying. The few times I did catch a line or two, he was fully capable of turning the minor flu-like symptoms that I already had, into full-out gagging and heaving. The man talks more shit than even I’d have guessed. The Pope is an ignorant, arrogant asshole.

Just a day after I arrived here, some kid shot up his school in Montreal, killing one, leaving two in critical condition and wounding more than a dozen others. He was shot dead by police. It’s just one more reason why I’d never want to raise my son here. These horror stories are happening more and more often in the west and I’m glad we haven’t reached this stage yet in the Emirates.

There’s a lot more to say, but really, this entry is just for Lizza who asked me to get back to blogging and home. I’m trying to rearrange my ticket for a sooner flight, hopefully soon after my next appointment, but I doubt that’ll be possible. My mother’s trying to convince me to stay; keeps showing me vacancies for work that she thinks is right up my alley. And my sister (who I’ve not yet seen) is right beside her with the home-marketing-strategy – yes it does feel like full-on campaign they’re applying.

I miss my son. I miss the boy. I’m cold. I’m pretty fucking tired. And people keep saying I talk funny.