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Published: September 8th 2010
Flying is never too interesting; it's a fairly uneventful experience. I watch a couple of cool movies, The Karate Kid and the Oscar winning animation, Persipolis, a coming of tale of Iran and womanhood, but slowly I start to feel something gurgling in my stomach. It grows, comes in waves and before I know it I’m doubled up in the bathroom, the pain is gripping me. I’m in the middle of two Indian guys who are nice but still, I need the aisle seat. “Sorry, I like the aisle seat,” one of the guys says. GREAT!!! This is turning out to be one of the most miserable flights of my life. Seven hours. Seven freaking hours.
It goes better when I land though. I was picked up by a driver and he whisks me off to my flat in Al Qusais. I feel and look like shit and I’m glad when I have a chance to dart into the bathroom and take a shower, brush my teeth and become human again. I change my shirt, feel like a new person and come to greet new friends.
It’s late, already early in the morning, so we don’t hang out too long but it does give me a chance to see the place. It’s super cute, a medium-sized space, very well designed and decorated, perfect for me.
Aight, it’s time to tuck on the bed. Some more stories coming up.
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