Snap caption: If I were an aunt and had a pretzel shop

Another thing I like about Abu Dhabi (and another happy place)

Whenever I go over to the local falafel shop around the corner from work Ali gives me one freshly fried-up falafel, which he carefully wraps up in a Kleenex and hands to me with a smile.

It's totally awesome because once I go to that shop I have usually waited far too long to eat and am often quite stressed. So I can just sit there and decompress for a few minutes, munching on a delicious falafel ball, staring at the giant shwarma rack or looking out onto the sunny street.

Plus he's always got the Quran channel on and it too is very soothing. Also, their food is completely delicious.

Dust 2.0, or so we're told

Well there was one good thing about the dust cloud (the one that's been around since last week, is forecast to return) and that is it has made me appreciate the sight of the sun.

The National has amazing aerial shots of the cloud this week, with it literally looking like a lump hovering over the little triangle that is the UAE. It really is gross and aside from attacking my eyes, left me short of breath and feeling as though I had smoked a pack of cigarettes AND an entire shisha. But from the look of pics on the wires, Saudia Arabia, and of course Baghdad, had it worst.

Several theories have now been put forward for the cloud – which left an orangey dust all over everything that scientists say may have travelled the length of the Gulf – but it seems no one really knows for sure.

The most outrageous theory, to me, is that years of military operations in Northern Iraq have stirred up the top crust of the desert and broken everything up so it's more floaty and mobile. That's not exactly how the scientists explained it, but you get the drift.

Others pointed to the ongoing drought in Iraq, made worse by the impact of damming and irrigation projects upstream in Turkey and Syria on the Tigris and Euphratest rivers.

Doctors have been telling people to stay inside as much as possible during the storms. And apparently the particles aren't small enough to cause lasting damage to the lungs – ie create the conditions for future emphysema and cancer – although it still can't be good for you.

Snap caption: Pretty funky tree

Update: The Hangover in Abu Dhabi cinemas

Several friends went to see The Hangover this weekend and report that almost nothing has been cut out. It was completely raunchy, to the point that I heard of one guy who was sitting by a couple of Emirati girls and was afraid to laugh at the worst bits.

We were wondering if maybe the censors look for obvious scenes, such as the love scene in Quantum Solace that cut off abruptly as the camera pan hit the bed-post, or the gay kiss in I Love You Man, and miss some of the one-liners, or dirty dialogue.

It reminds me of how if I buy a woman's magazine here, all the cleavage will be blacked out on pictures, but the explicit "how to" articles remain.

It's a bit difficult in a sandstorm, to keep a clean car

Apparently, it's very important to keep a clean car in Abu Dhabi. I understand this, as most people drive nice if not expensive or wildly expensive vehicles.

But even in Canada, with its endearing lack of blowing, settling sand, I wasn't really that good at keeping my car clean. Especially during that dirty time between winter and spring. Occasionally it would get so dirty someone would say something jokey about it, and I'd clean it.

I've been sharing a car rental with a friend this summer and it's going really well – except for the fact that I've scraped the front bumper and she's dented the back, of course. It's one of those white rentals, a Corolla, that fill the streets of Abu Dhabi. Neither of us are that good at keeping it clean, which is why I laughed when making a police report about my scrape. The officer stared at the spot, looked at me, looked at the entire car, and then said "so dirty?" His tone was a mixture of question, bafflement and disgust.

This week a cab driver told me he's known of people who were pulled over by police in Abu Dhabi for their dirty cars (and I've been told in Oman it's actually illegal to drive with a sand-covered car). My friend tells me whenever she is at Al Wahda Mall the men who operated those little portable car-cleaning carts – cool, huh? – are always offering to give ours a wash.They look very confused, she said, when she doesn't want them too.

Last week I was cat sitting an incredibly nice villa, one that has a pool and an exercise room and big flat screens: you know, how the other half lives. There is also a nice man named Murtaza, from Pakistan, who lives in a small apartment inside the villa gates and who I think is sort of a driver/caretaker. The other day he came and asked about my car. I said we could move it to the street from the driveway, if it was blocking in the Land Rover. That's not what he was asking.

"The car is so dirty," he said. "Can I clean?"

He wouldn't let me take no for an answer. He seemed a little upset by the state of it. And he was clearly relieved when I finally let him give it a wash.

Not a big fan of sandstorms

That thing you can't really see on the front page is the Burj Dubai yesterday, surrounding by a whole lotta sand. Yuck.

There are a lot of things I didn't give much thought to when I moved over here. I really wanted to do it, and that's when you tend to pay attention to just the positives. But other than the heat, which really is not that bad right now, I'd have to say one of my least favourite things about living here are the sand and dust storms.

There is the nastiest one here right now, no whipping winds or anything, just a thick cloud of dust that apparently blew in again from Iraq, that hangs in the air, cuts out the sun and leaves a crappy, dirty haze all over everything. It's really weird and a bit eerie – you don't even need sunglasses. Not to mention that I feel as though there are hundreds of particles in my eyes. And I don't even want to think of what this is doing to people with asthma.

It's apparently supposed to lift tomorrow, and then come back later in the week.