Heart VS Head

The great debate.

My gut instinct is telling me it’s time to leave UAE. I’ve been here since 2009. I believe I have taken all I can from the experience. I have made friends that I never want to lose, and gained experience that I’ll benefit from forever and a day. I have travelled to Arab and Asian countries I barely even knew existed and had a ball. And, I have savings. Not a fortune, but enough to start a new life back home.

In my head, there are many reasons why I should stay:

  • I’m making good money – for the first time in my life I’m self-sufficient, I can decide to go away on holiday, get my nails done, buy clothes or drink myself into oblivion without worrying if I can afford it
  • The economic situation at home is really bad, I’m probably going to end up on social welfare wishing I was back in Abu Dhabi
  • This picture was taken last week here at the beach.Would it be foolish of me to give  this up in favour of December in Ireland?

I’m probably giving up whatever chance I have of a reference by leaving my contract early. And I don’t have one from my other job here because I recently emailed my boss there to tell him what a bully and general all-round asshole he is. Oops.


Ah, but my heart!

  • My heart is telling me I’m wasting my time developing skills and a reputation in a field I have pretty much no interest whatsoever in pursuing
  • I want to be a writer. I love writing. I get such a giddy high when I notice lots of people looked at this blog and/or commented on a given day. Especially if the comments are not from people I know in real life! I get an even giddier buzz from seeing my name in print.Now is possibly the worst time in history to try and pursue a career in media, yet two of my peers who dedicated themselves to it instead of fluting around in the Middle East have gotten amazing jobs in the last year. It is possible, but it requires hard work and dedication. I may only be 23 but I’m not getting any younger, if this is something I’m serious about, I need to get moving on it now.
  • I miss Ireland. I read the news every day. I know how depressing it is at the moment. But it’s my home. And I have been gone for a long time. I have missed weddings, funerals and historic occasions that should have shaped the last few years for me. I have lost contact with friends that were very important to me
  • Slightly connected to the above, I feel like I’m losing my sense of self. I know that sounds a bit wishy-washy, but the environment you live in has an effect on you. It’s dawning on me more and more lately that UAE is an incredibly shallow, fickle society and I catch myself becoming a more shallow, fickle person. That’s just not who I am. What is more, it’s built on the backs of exploited labourers from all over India and Asia. My social conscience puts me in terrible spot a lot of the time between liking stuff that’s cheap and convenient and understanding that it is so because they guy serving me does a 17 hour day for peanuts.

In a nutshell – the only reason to stay is the financial benefits. But that will be the case in six months, in a year and in five years. The sensible thing to do is stay, I know that. But last week I posted about a tattoo I want to get – Audentes Fortuna Iuvat

Fortune Favours the Bold

Your opinions and advice are most welcome.
I have to make up my mind by December.

Harrington for President

Ladies and Gentlemen, just a few moments of your time. I’m making a last ditch attempt to go for the Presidency. Let the Councils reconvene, let the Oireachtas members gather to hear my vision.

Naturally, I’m going to have to enter the Eurovision. The role of President involves a lot of travelling and representing Ireland’s image on the international stage. Crooning with six semi-naked backing dancers in a made-up country in Eastern Europe is the obvious way to show Ireland I can handle that level of responsibility and win the trust of Eurocentrics. I’m pretty sure we’ll even get the Euro crisis solved while we’re there.

Much like Sean Gallagher, I have never been a developer. Nonetheless, like him, I’m more than willing to lecture young Irish people on how to handle their finances. Though I have no direct experience with NAMA, my personal finances are a bit of a mess and that’s just the same problem on a micro-level.

I am neither Gay nor gay, and my name is not Mary but I hope you will not hold this against me in my Presidential aspirations. Nor have I ever done time for possession of massive quantities of explosives, but I’m willing to develop a more republican side, if not a militantly-republican one. Perhaps I could smuggle water-guns up North for dubious purposes, or orchestrate a small to medium sized riot during the next marching season – I have a Blackberry.

Despite my utter lack of interest in GAA, I am also totally willing to come along to Croke Park on the odd Sunday to be introduced to 40 odd attractive men.

Let it be known, ladies and gentlemen, I am willing to make these kinds of sacrifices for you. I will cut ribbons like they have never been cut before!

Stop the brain drain people – bring one of your own home. Save me from life out here in the desert and I promise to bring everyone who votes for me over to the Aras for a savage houseparty!

Check out my website at www.harrythehat4prez2011.com

Harrington  – “less annoying than Dana since 1988”

This Murphy fella has a lot to answer for!

“Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

What kind of a law is that to make up? And who would want it named after them?

I am currently blaming this Murphy for a number of the following less than convenient phenomena in my life

  • I constantly remember to brush my teeth directly after I have applied my lip gloss in the morning. Every time.  I get up at 7.10 for work at 7.30 – I ain’t got time to reapply that shit!
  • Gettin’ the shift (and so forth) only happens on days when my hair hasn’t been washed and my legs aren’t shaved. This is, apparently, a universal phenomenon, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.
  • Between Sunday and Thursday, my sleep pattern will go as follows: Doze fitfully from 12:00 – 6:50 when the alarm goes off, often after dreaming vividly about cats. Between 6:50- 7:10 [when I reallllly have to get up] I will have the most amazing sleep of my life. Bleary-eyed I’ll wander around the room picking stuff up and putting it down again, trying to get appropriate clothes on before I drag myself the 200 metres to work. Naturally, at the weekend when I have all the time in the world to sleep, I will wake up at 9 and not be able to get back to sleep.
  • On days when have gotten myself together enough to blowdry and straighten my hair, put on some make-up and dress nicely, nothing will be going on. I will most likely sit in my room reading. But on the evening I run out to the supermarket in my work clothes, not having run a brush through my hair, attractive men will ring for impromptu drinks (cue legging it around Al Wahdah mall with a mere ten minutes to find a reasonably priced, sexy-but-not-slutty top to wear).
  • If I am dieting a coworker will bring chocolate to school for all. If I am quitting drinking old friends will come to town to party. Now it’s entirely my own fault that I don’t have the self-discipline to stick to my goals anyway, but I’ll tell ya this much for nathin’, Murphy is not helping.

So, who is this Murphy? And why is he ruining our lives? Your correspondent took to wikipedia to find the answers.

Well, apparently it was known as Reilly’s Law first anyway, which goes to show nothing but that anything that can go wrong will go wrong was definitely espoused by an Irishman. As for Murphy –

…The Law’s namesake was Capt. Ed Murphy, a development engineer from Wright Field Aircraft Lab. Frustration with a strap transducer which was malfunctioning due to an error in wiring the strain gage bridges caused him to remark – “If there is any way to do it wrong, he will” – referring to the technician who had wired the bridges at the Lab. I assigned Murphy’s Law to the statement and the associated variations.[8]

Hmmm. Good to know.

Next week on oracularspectacular: Giving up make-up – an altogether more realistic goal than giving up drinking. Same bat time, same bat channel.

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